Abrupt(ly), Accident(ally)

I used to think that I'm just unloveable. Obviously not in a platonic way, that's for another chapter. But yes, unloveable. The failed relationships, the struggle to commit, the amount of time I look at a happy couple and wonder: when. At some point, I started to freeze all my feelings and desires for love, stopped listening to love songs and continued living. At some point, I just stopped caring.

Then one day, like air freshner that seeped into an empty room, like melted liquid that drips out of a broken fridge, like pictures captured inside a newly bought camera roll, you came into my life and become one of the things that mattered the most. The bag might be empty, yet the room smelled nice. The fridge may be broken, yet the dripping water alerted its owners of its need for service. The camera roll may be full, but it holds memories. And amongst all states of matter, you made it matter the most.

You reminded me of how simply one can feel wanted. Perhaps through the random videos you'd send me at midnight. Perhaps through the tutoring of several lessons I've struggled to understand. Perhaps through the words you've said to me. Perhaps through the moments you started behaving out of your cold character.

It's ironic, how someone as cold and nonchalant as you can bring so much warmth to one's life. That the monotonous colour of your clothes can spark mine with splashes of rainbows. That at some point, my face drew smiles as I began to curate songs into this playlist called love. And finally, love songs start to play again — abruptly, accidentally.

I became willing. Willing to walk lengths just so I can see a strand of your hair. Willing to cut classes just so I can meet you. Willing to ask so I'd have things to talk about. Willing to take care of myself so I can feel good the way you do. Then I loved myself more, smiled more, giggled more. I started to care. It was bare, simple, yet abrupt - how you made me feel wanted.

The same way was how you made me feel disposable. Random texts turn to short bubbles. Random numerous videos turn to questionable replies. Random moments you'd text me turn to something I'd always long for, but won't happen. Then it left me wondering: what happened? Rhetorical questions filled my head. Those that would cloud my head on a random day, yet I can't seem to answer. At what point did you start wanting me? At what point did you realise I was disposable? At what point did the fridge started to work and you turn back to ice?

Then it made me realise, that perhaps, to you, I was the air freshner, ready to dispose once the room smelled pleasant. That you were ready to use the fridge, rid it of all the power it has, and throw it out. That you were just about to sell the camera to a second hand purchaser once it no longer captures the perfect shade of colour.

I finally realise that maybe, just maybe, I'm as disposable to you as all of the above. That the warmth will leave as rainy clouds start pouring. That the splashes of colour will be gone after a few washes. I finally realise that perhaps, the playlist I curated wholeheartedly would only remain in my library, left there to be buried with time and never listened to. That perhaps, it was an abrupt accident that I would one day look back to and laugh at.