Day Two

Day Two was his birthday. A few days back, when we were still together, I planned something. I'm someone who's big on surprises and year after year, I always did something that would surprise him. I guess this year, I was the one surprised.

On the morning of Day Two, I felt like I woke up in hell. Suddenly, sadness had this huge arms that were wrapped around me. My eyes were puffy from crying the night before. It was a good cry, one that I badly needed. Little did I know that I was going to do more sulking the next day.

I was doing some house chores when my finger got stuck in a drawer. I banged the drawer when I closed it without noticing that my finger was still inside. It was very painful. Being the crybaby that I am, I cried. At first, it was because I couldn't feel my finger anymore. Minutes later, I was crying because I lost someone who was celebrating his birthday that day. My mom saw me crying. After a few moments, she was crying too. She shared my grief somehow.

I proceeded with the day, evolving into this super pathetic being that I once was years ago. Deleting old messages, listening to sad songs, staring blankly at a wall and remembering the past. The funny and good thing is, when I remember us, the good times come to surface even if we fought a million times. As the day went on, I continued to morph from a girl brimming with positivity into an "emo" kid wanting to tear the whole world down.

Before Day Two ended, we talked on the phone. It was a good conversation. I said the things I might regret not saying. I was crying too much that the desk literally had a puddle of tears. Gaaaah. I never imagined that I'd be this way again.

Before, when the day ends, I would be thankful for two things. One, my mom is a survivor. Two, I had a beautiful and thriving relationship. For Day Two, I thanked God for my mom's life and The Boy's life, which I was a part of even for a while.