It’s funny, how it went down. So funny that now I’m questioning — who gets the last laugh? Because it’s a funny story, actually. Ours.
It started off slowly, unassumingly, unexpectedly, and suddenly bam — explosion. Next thing I noticed? I was aching from the distance you put between us. And I had to realise: you’re not the type who lets anyone get too close... but the joke is, neither am I. So now I’m questioning, who gets the last laugh in this comedy of ours?
Well, I AM definitely laughing, but it’s from agony. The kind someone gets when they’re nervous in an uncomfortable situation, and it’s overwhelming to the point where tension builds to giggles, and then they’re just straight up laughing. Laughing from pain. Uncontrollable. Hilarious. Might look ridiculous from the outside, but hey — people cope however they can.
And you, on the other hand... I think you’re laughing from emancipation. And this is just a theory, an assumption, one of many I used to drive you crazy with. But I think it’s legitimate, because you did ask me to let you be. And so, after countless tears and just as many angry letters I ended up having to burn, I made a deal with the universe. I made a decision, at last. Call it a decision, or maybe it’s been a whole process that ended in a decision — doesn’t matter. It’s been a process that led me to blocking you on socials, in the 3D matrix, in my dreams (how is this even a thing?), everywhere. The kind of choice that makes me want to move to another country and never look back. That kind.
I would like to know if this is funny to you, just as much as it is to me. Did you think, at the very beginning, when we made our “contract,” that things would get so unfixable? Did you think, when you walked out the door, seemingly for good? Did you think, when I told you one year can be damned, I still want you...?
Are you laughing at me, for how silly I was, for how naïve I still am, for even thinking we could have been? Are you laughing because it was nice and all, but ‘Thank you, I’m over it’? Allow me to assume that yes, you are — because this isn’t hurting you half as much as it hurts me. Because if it were, you wouldn’t have ever left.
It’s funny how unfair this story is, because I had to go through a whole spiritual awakening, and you’re just... partying. And laughing. And that is already more than I can say about myself, in general. So I think you won. You’re the winner at the end, if that was your goal... congratulations. I’m the loser here (I lost you). I’m the loser because I lost the best thing that ever happened to me. (Us).
But I like to close my musings on a positive note, and some minuscule hope still clings to my ribcage, so here’s to “it gets better.” One day, hopefully not so far in the future, I will party too. And I will dance and laugh again, too. And one day, it will register all the way that I have no reason to be scared — I’ve never had to be afraid. Because if someone wants to stay, they will. And they will laugh with me, not at me. Laugh freely, from emancipation too, because love was never supposed to hurt, and it’s not something to be scared of, or run from.
Because the one who is capable of love, of loving from the pitch-black bottom of their heart, is the one who always gets the last laugh.