Cycle

The end. This is usually how all stories end. Not this story. This story started in the end. The drama began when I said goodbye. I left without an explanation -- I had none for myself. I just know that I am willing but I am scared. You had no clue of what happened to our fairy tale. You were left puzzled. This was the beginning of an unending moratorium. You called me for days, you went to my house, but I just had too many excuses. Hence, you gave me my space. You patiently waited for an answer even though you are dying a little everyday for not knowing. I thought that being alone would end this frantic ambivalence. It did not. It made me miss you when you were away but it made me want you to go away when you are here. I could not understand what was happening to me, until I realized that you are my friend. You always have been that person who would protect me, make me laugh, give me a hug, hold my hand and wipe my tears. It was too late when I realized I made a mistake when I fell into the trap. The trap of thinking I was in love. Well, you fell for it first. It was just foolish of me to jump in for a rescue without thinking of a strategy. I figured out how to get out of the trap. I tried it, it worked. I wanted to help you get out, too. Somehow my way does not work for you. Whenever I tried, it was either I got dragged in or you got hurt in trying. Nonetheless, I did not want to stop. I was selfish to force upon my perspective. It was selfish because I did not know whether you wanted to get out. Maybe you did not. Maybe you refuse my way because you have your own, but until then, until I am sure that you would be able to escape with nothing as much as a scar that I caused, I would not stop trying. I have a feeling this might take a while. It might even take forever. This story would never end. How could it when it is a never-ending cycle of beginning in the end?