With his face inches from hers, distorted to an unrecognizable rage, she then realized: "I'm going to marry a monster."

And then she feels nothing.


The wound never healed.

That old thing about time is bullshit. It doesn't heal wounds. It just makes them rot.[1] And the bandages that barely cover it up are just there to hide the rot, the smell -- the constant reminder of a broken promise.

And now, salt in the wound.


She terribly misses him.

Him, who gave her roses when she was having a bad day.

Him, who comforted her as she cried herself to sleep.

Him, who wanted her so bad, he'd just pull over.

Him, who wanted to kiss her all the time.

Him, who was with her when they became a family.

Him, who told her "Kanina pa kita pinapanood matulog".

She never sees him anymore. He just left. But he did leave one thing with her.

He left her a monster.


[1] From Christopher Pike's The Visitor

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