I spoke to someone I deeply care about. And it stings me to know the situation he is in. I honestly wish that life has moved on for him, no matter the pain that he was in.

As outrageous as I may sound, - deep down I’m very proud of him. I dare say that no one I know who is in such a position would be brave enough to face or deal with a situation like that. At the end it all, I find comfort in knowing that he is still the same compassionate person with a great deal of responsibility on his back.

I refuse to speculate that he will one day give up and run away from all of these, -like he mentioned before.

I shared so many memories with him. The moments when he would literally lift me upside down and I’ll start screaming my lungs out as the blood rushed to my head. Times when I realized that we’ve accumulate more gifts from each other more than we’ve had from anyone our whole lives. The sales where we bought more books than we can actually read. Our self made abbreviation of words in our conversations that no one could understand.

But we cannot harp on such nostalgia and let it eat us alive. At the same time, we cannot start loathing each other because he and I know we’re not at all evil, -despite the harsh accusations we’ve been killing each other with.

I want to help. And not out of sympathy, or due to the guilt trip I’ll live with for the rest of my life, but because I have to.

I just have to when it comes to him.