Boulevard Sweethearts

“It- it- wa- was al- always y- u- fal- ng f- for me- mee,” I mouthed the song in between sobs. My voice was rough and obviously tired; thanks to those sleepless nights I spent bawling my eyes out considering the reason was completely bullshit. I can’t even recognize the words that I am trying to sing, let alone my own horrible voice that turned completely worse than ever. “No- now the- re’s al- always t- me cal- ling fo- fo- for me,” My voice passed out, my throat gave up. It was worn out and tired and pained just like how my heart felt. It was aching. They were both aching and I was, too. I was hurting. They both jived in comparisons as if they both know how each of them generally feels in that very particular moment.

I turned from a strong, firm and concrete thing to a complete wreck- a goddamn emotional wreck. I got the whole world in front of me and I shut them down, or maybe I was wrong, maybe they were the one who shut me off- tired of my goddamn bullcrap just like how tired I am with this one hell of a rollercoaster ride called life- except mine has only one way to go, down. It goes down and low, down and down and down, low and low and low, until it hits the fucking hard ground- and maybe what’s happening to me right now is the impact, and nothing screams “Ouch” like falling hard on the ground without even having the chance to prepare for the pain that you’re about to feel.

I feel numb and wrecked, an emotional-numb-wreck and I really don’t think there’s any way that could possibly happen but I am feeling it right now and maybe, for once, it is possible. Maybe feeling two things that are completely opposite is possible. Just maybe.

I can now safely say that I’ve been the most stupid girl that ever existed. Of course than was an exaggeration but you get the point, right? I was so dumb, so fucking stupid and worse, pathetic. Never did Satan give these three characters to a single person just to let her feel the wrath of the whole universe, ever, but I’ve always been an exception to bad things and maybe this is what I’m supposed to feel until I hold my last breath, until I die and reach my grave. My life was a complete joke- like I was born to make people happy and make myself feel like shit.

I’ve always thought that you can put up with other people’s crap as long as you love them, like suffering didn’t really matter as long as you see them happy, like “Fight for what you love” is true and it makes the whole thing more fair and acceptable, but God, I was wrong. You really can’t take the pain if it finally reached your pain capacity no matter how much you’re used to it. I’ve always thought I can still endure the raging pain that I’ve always felt the moment we got together but fuck, I was wrong. I’ve always been wrong. Everyone has their own limitations and maybe, this was mine.

My train of thoughts was interrupted by a pair of voice.

“I love you, Jamilah Shey,” a guy’s voice said, followed by a kiss sound which I guess is what he’s sharing at that exact moment with the girl he’s pertaining her love to, Jamilah.

“I love you too, Matthew Clark,” a girl’s voice replied as strings of giggles followed it.

“I love you even though you have those big thighs.”

“Shut up, Matt.”

“I love you even if you have that ridiculous hairstyle.”

“I love you even though you have those big eyes,” the Jamilah girl finally gave up and joined in.

The chanting continued for at least a minute before it halts to an end, it was my phone beeping, he was calling but why should I care. We’re done.

That was our relationship back then, a picture perfect relationship before things started to fall apart. I put up with his bullshit but shit; I am so fucking done with him. And finally, after running from this dreadful recurrence that haunted me for the past three days- I let myself taste the bitter memory that for some reasons, I miss.

“Look, Matt, I’ve had enough,” I managed to spit the words out even with my trembling voice.

“Jam, look,” he said as he grabbed me by the shoulder, I shrugged it off, “Don’t even dare to touch me you fucking bastard,” I said with pure disgust. “I’m so sorry. I was actually thinking about breaking up with you but-“

“But what?”

“But I was actually afraid of hurting your feelings,” he replied.

“BULLSHIT!” I cursed with pure hatred. “You’re already hurting me, Matt, even before tonight happened. You should’ve made it easier for me. You should’ve ended it sooner because the longer it gets the more it hurts.” I cried.

“Jam, sorry,” he said as he grabbed me by my shoulders again, I automatically shrugged it off but his grip was so tight. He lifted my chin up and his eyes met mine. Those grey eyes, I will surely miss those.

“Matt, we’re done,” I said in a whisper and continued to sob. Matt leaned in closer and I closed my eyes.

His lips crushed into mine, he kissed me with pure agony. I kissed back, my hands were lost in his hair and the kiss continued for a minute until I decided to push him away.

“Goodbye, Matt,” I said as I tip toed and give him a last peck on the lips. When I pulled away, he gave me a sympathetic smile. “Goodbye, Jam,” he replied.

The memory was still too fresh in my mind and as much as I want to forget about that, I still couldn’t bring myself to. The pain made its way throughout my system again. I cried until my eyes were puffy and the water drained. “This will be the last,” I swore to myself, dead beat as I drifted off to sleep.