The Law of Impenetrability*

*states that no two things can occupy the same space, at the same time.

***

I haven't heard from him for weeks now, but he's still here. So here.

The Friendster pen that I used to jot down "buy hangers and panty shields". The Kermit green micro waste bin where my bus tickets are crumpled, together with my last pay slip. The nasal spray that I won't be needing anymore (and is now in the Kermit green micro waste bin.) The crayons, waxy stubbles of colors, that are gathering dust now, all of them are grey to me now. The bottle of Olay Total Effects cream that made me break out (which is going to the Kermit green micro waste bin as well.) The P80 track jacket, which my sister is wearing. Conversations that play no end in my head. Tastes. Touches.

Restless, I try to run.

But he's still there. With me. In me. All around.

The Daft Punk track blasting through the earphones that he bought me. The Kenny Open race singlet I'm wearing. The socks that once wrapped his feet, now embracing mine. And the AdiZero shoes, of which he has a male version, his superadvanced birthday gift (although I knew back then that he'd give me something else).

I don't want to do another postmortem analysis of what happened, who did what wrong. But I will not deny that I never stop missing him, breathing is labor many times, that I feel empty because he's not here but fuck, he's still here, and that right now (and yes, right now's end, but they linger for a painfully long time) nobody else can sit in that spot in my heart where he has carved the shape of his ass.

***

Dear Anna,

You know me all too well. I am hurting. I don't say much but as I sat there very, VERY still, right across from you, you knew something was amiss. You know that I am not the same. I do not keep it from you. And I know you are not the same, too. I don't know though if we're different now in a good or in a bad way. I take comfort in the fact that floods, yes, they come, but there are things that cannot be washed over, like this friendship that we have.

It doesn't matter who hurts more. The circumstances, our respective circumstances, are not comparable. Only one thing is parallel - both of us, we are in pain. It will take countless cups of expensive coffee and lunches for this to go away. Or maybe, the pain won't go away. At all. We'll just get used to it.

Contrary to what you may think, I do pray. All the time. I don't understand a lot of things now. I'd think I do, then I'd change my mind. Just when I thought the silt and mud and dust has settled, the waters become turbid again. At times, things don't make sense. There's anger and pain and spite and regret and sadness...just this consuming sadness. I do pray. If I don't, my breathing, hard as it is right now, would stop.

All will be well. We both know that.

I missed you a lot.

***

I know he doesn't care about me at all. But just so he knows, I wish that someday (and I know this might not be soon, but I know that this someday will come) I'd make him proud.