Note: This is fiction. I didn't write it. This is from Aparador Prince . Comments are appreciated. :)
Hey,
I dropped by your pad earlier. Since I still have your duplicate keys, I
didn't knock - or maybe I was just too comfortable to come in without
knocking. I wanted it to be a surprise but I wasn't able to see you
there, it was foolish of me to visit at one in the morning after all.
When was the last time I went here? Has it been weeks?
I
walked past your shoerack. I can still remember the times when you'd
come home from work and leave your shoes on the doorway and whenever I
put them on the rack, you'd say that it's just a waste of time since
you'll be using it again tomorrow. I really don't know why you make
small things complicated. We were always bickering about things which
are nonsense. Just like the time when I used your sneakers, I apologized
but you were very furious so I just kept quiet. I'm happy we got over
that fight, though.
Your
living room is still a mess, just like the last time I saw it. Soiled
clothes are scattered everywere, socks covering picture frames. Pictures
of you receiving all those company recognitions. Weren't you the
overachiever, the one with high hopes? More often than not, too high
that you disregard other people. You hated people who doesn't excel in
any field, even calling them stupid, or worthless. You even called me
stupid once, when I asked you if troublesome is a noun or an adjective.
To be honest, I still don't know the answer.
I
planned to tidy up your living room, but I remembered you liked it the
way it is. I often reminded you to clean but you said you were busy with
all your endeavors. I tried to clean up once, but you got mad and said I
have no right to meddle with your things, and make decisions as I
please. I'm not sure if you really meant that. I hope not.
Oh,
I peeked at your bedroom too. It was almost twice as messy as your
living room. Perfume bottles scattered around, even more soiled clothes.
That special place. The sacred part of the house. The place where I
caught you fooling around with another man. And another. And some more
men. You said it wouldn't happen again - but it did - more than I could
remember. I got over it, though. I actually want to know how you've been
faring in that field.
I
was about to step out of the loft when I remembered to check the
kitchen. It was the messiest part of the house, I tell you. Condiments
spilled and dried up in the table. Broken wine bottles, pots and
cauldrons on the floor. Haven't you washed the dishes for weeks?
The
huge brawl that we had before I left the house passed through my mind. I
can't remember how or why it happened, but it was the first time I
snapped back. You were really mad that your hit me with a pan, and I
threw glasses and mugs in retaliation. That fight was never settled, at
least on your part. I'm okay now, totally at peace. How about you?
You
always wanted someone who could dance very well, but I wasn't good at
dancing. You were frustrated with my flaw that you wished to never talk
about it again.
I
just realized, we fought a lot, considering the time that we spent
together. You always pointed out my flaws. You hated all my weakness
when compared to your achievements. Weren't you able to see them when we
were still dating? Some of the fights we had ended really bad that we
had to endure cuts and bruises, not to mention the broken furniture that
became the weapon of choice during the fight. I know you have toyed
with the idea of killing me once or twice, or even more than that. But
I'm thankful that you never did it.
As
for me, I only thought of that once. Call it bad timing, but the only
difference is that I acted on it - literally - with a kitchen knife. It
was lying on the table and I picked it up without thought. Stabs. More
stabs. Twenty-six, to be exact.
I
would like you to know that unlike your assumptions that I don't have
any talent, I have great interest in art, especially in french curves.
Which is why I drew some on your back that night. I danced too - but I
used the knife as the main dancer.
I'm sorry I forgot to wash that knife. Was it stainless?
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