Inscription

I thought of A over the weekend. I thought about how the memory of her haunts me months after we parted and I bid my goodbye with her. I thought about how all this time I’ve never let go of her, how the thought of her still breaks me. I thought of resolving the issues with her or quietly within myself. Then the thought of having a pressing need to seek resolution with her frightens me. Why would I need to go this far for a moment of truth, a peace of mind with someone who should not matter in my life? Someone who has finally found her happiness and left me alone.

I thought of the sickening habit of me to make up imaginary enemies and how the negativity affects me in indescribable ways. I thought about quitting the habit for good. Then I imagined A with her fiancé walking through the food court in the department store, hand in hand. I imagined running into her and having to turn away. Then I couldn’t help but feeling the anger rising inside of me, running through my veins. I am angry at myself for thinking so much about A, for imagining her happiness, for her having her happiness.

I secretly wondered if she deserved her happiness. Even if it shouldn't be up to me to decide or even to doubt if anyone, if A deserves the kind of happiness she owns. The happiness she inscribed on her skin, on her fate. I wondered if she ever thought of me, if she thinks of me from time to time.