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Wishful Thinking

Summary:

“Time heals all wounds,” they say.

And you agree with it. It does. Time is linear; it moves forward indefinitely, and its continuous passage lessens the pain you once felt until it’s just but a mere speck of dust from afar. Or until it’s not visible in the human eye.

 

It will pass because time heals.

 
Or maybe not.

Not after seeing the person who once held your heart so dearly now intertwines hands with someone else. Almost so dearly as well.

POV: You’re the girl Ace used to date back in middleschool.

Notes:

because it's always ace x yuu angst that we sometimes—no, often times forget or look past the angsty feeling of ace's ex gf after being ghosted.

and what it's like to see him years after that with someone else who he's now treating sm better

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Time heals all wounds,” they say.

And you agree with it. It does. Time is linear; it moves forward indefinitely, and its continuous passage lessens the pain you once felt until it’s just but a mere speck of dust from afar. Or until it’s not visible in the human eye.

 

It will pass because time heals.

 

Or,

 

Maybe not.

 

Not after seeing the person who once held your heart so dearly now intertwines hands with someone else. Almost so dearly as well.

 

The one who used to held your heart so dearly, and yet the one who held it down so fast.

 

For whatever reason he had.

 

Fragile as it’s always been, it shattered into tiny shards as it hit against a cold, solid ground. There was no one else but you to pick them all up, because it’s always been yours to begin with. And oh, how foolish of you to ever think it belonged to him.

 

Well,

 

Maybe for a short, fleeting moment you had together, it did. Who knows?

 

But a heart’s a heavy burden, and unfortunately for you, it’s something that he couldn’t bear to carry for a lifetime.

 

You scoffed.

 

At least that’s what you thought back then.

 

Because just like the seasons, people change too.

 

He changed.

You changed.

 

Who knew that with just one unexpected encounter, the scars that used to be your symbol of strength for a long time would quickly become a fresh open wound?

There’s no mistaking it. That spiky yet fluffy ginger-colored hair of his that you used to run your fingers through it. That bright, scarlet eyes that you used to never grow tired of gazing at. And that cheeky, lovely smile that used to utter sweet nothings to you whenever you’re in a bad mood.

The boy who taught you love and heartbreak all at the same time.

 

You froze in your feet. It’s him.

 

And all of a sudden, it takes you back to that time.

 

That time when the two of you shared intense, mutual feelings for each other.

 

It started out like every love story you could ever find in the media;

 

The boy fell first.

The girl eventually gave in to his romantic tactics and fell deeply in love too.

Then they got together, happily.

 

However,

 

Love painted in the media isn’t always the same with the love depicted in real life.

 

No—it’s far from it.

 

It’s like being promised a garden full of blooming flowers and butterflies, only to be brought to a scalding hot desert with no oasis in sight; no presence of life in the surrounding area.

 

It’s just like a lovely lie sugarcoating an ugly truth.

 

Because the real love you’ve felt wasn’t ever comforting at all. If anything, it’s overtly and disgustingly deprecating; it consumes your whole being until you realize all too late you cannot get yourself back. Like some kind of black hole, it sucked the life out of you.

 

 

Sadly, there’s no turning back, the damage has been done.

 

You gave your all—still, that wasn’t enough for him to stay.

 

But did you really give your all?

 

What does it truly mean to give your all to somebody?

 

Is being by your true, authentic self the equivalent of giving your all to someone you love?

 

Does giving your all to somebody mean emptying your cup to fill theirs until you ran out of source?

 

Or, must it be somewhere in between?

 

 

Then,

 

You recalled everything that happened between you and him.

 

Before the fall-out.

Before the lost of communication.

Before the clock strikes at midnight and the magic’s still working—for the two of you.

 

Whenever you and him would go on dates, it’s either hitting the movie theatres or the amusement parks. The typical, old-school romantic setting for couples. You know they just never go out of style.

And you always got everything you wanted because he’d let you to. He’d watch corny, cheesy movies with you even though he preferred the action and thriller genres. He’d ride the merry-go-rounds and ferris wheels with you even though he thought rollercoaster rides were a lot more enjoyable. He’d accompany you to your all-time favorite shops even though he wanted to spend his time at the arcades.

It was just like every other fairytale you’ve read and seen—the prince charming who always does everything for his princess. The classic, romantic stuff.

 

He was willing to do everything, so long as it made you happy.

 

But during all of that, was he happy too?

 

It was always your way, never his.

 

 

And now that you looked back on all these memories that felt like daggers piercing through you, you finally asked yourself these questions:

 

“For once, did I ever go for what he liked and wanted?”

“For once, did I ever ask him his preferences and hobbies?”

“For once, did I ever consider his feelings?”

 

 

You knew the answer and yet, you refused to admit it.

 

Because it stings differently when nostalgia meets regret.

 

All the “what if’s” suddenly came haunting over your thoughts, like some kind of tsunami that came crashing over the area with no signs of warning at all. And before you know it, you’re drowning.

Drowned in the far deep blue ends of all the would’ve, could’ve, and should’ve’s.

 

If only he said something, then you would’ve been there to hear him out.

Had he shown you the parts he was silently bleeding, then you could’ve offered a way to at least stop or prevent it.

When he was slowly losing his grip onto you, you should’ve held onto his hand even tighter and reassured him that everything will be okay.

 

 

Except,

 

He wasn’t slowly losing his grip onto you.

 

He let go, instantly. 

 

No warnings, no explanations. Nothing at all.

 

Like a child leaving his old, used-toy at the drop of the hat at the playground and going after a new figurine displayed at the nearby store.

Abandoning the very thing that used to bring happiness, or rather ‘entertainment’ to him at the sandbox.

 

Didn't even care enough to put you back in your box after playtime’s over.

No—he didn't even care enough to give explanations before ending the relationship.

 

Instead, ignorance became his choice of weapon.

And you were met with a deadly silence at the battlefield.

 

 

Today, you saw him—walking out of the store with the latest toy in his hand.

 

‘Another fool who has unknowingly entangled themself into his silly games, huh?’ You thought, pitifully.

 

Not until you’ve seen a foreign expression registering on his face.

 

An expression you’d never expected he’s capable of doing after all.

An expression of love—a love that’s pure and true—one you’ve always seen in the media that you’d dreamed of seeing from him too someday.

 

You finally got to see that look on him right now.

 

Although, only,

 

You’re not the target audience this time. His pathetic look of love is not meant for you but for them.

 

And here you thought he will always just be the jester in anyone’s narrative not until you’ve become an uninvited witness at his coronation day.

And by the twist of fate, you had suddenly become the jester—as if like he pulled a swapcard on you on a whim, unaware.

 

You watched the two of them from afar as they romantically strolled down the streets hand in hand without a care in the world.

 

With every shared laughter of theirs that echoes a clear harmony of mutual feeling, you clenched your hands in annoyance;

 

With every playful bicker they did that sparked tension between them even more, you felt a solid tightening forming in your chest;

 

And with every soft and careful touch they displayed in public that writes off a happily ever after in their books, you stagger from your steps and looked away.

 

...A fairytale-like story is unfolding in front of your very eyes right now, one where the concept of a happy ending was stolen, you think.

 

In that quick moment, you mourned a bit.

 

Not only because you’re mourning over your past with the guy, but it’s more of the fact that you’re grieving over the wasted future you two could’ve gotten together.

And, a small part of you wished their present was your present right now.

 

‘Hah.’ You exhaled deeply after the realization.

 

You kept telling yourself over and over that you’ve moved on. But words like these are like candle wax, when confronted against a burning fire—it melts.

Because after seeing him again after how many years, for some reason the deep, unsolved feelings resurfaced. And it’s as if the pain he inflicted on you was raw again, like it just happened yesterday.

 

Just like that, you could feel rage and bitterness rising at the tip of your tongue.

 

You seethed through your teeth.

 

Because there are still so many questions you wanted to ask him:

 

‘Don’t you think I deserve an explanation and an apology for what you did?’

‘Why did you let go so easily?’

‘Ace Trappola, why couldn’t we work out together?’

 

You wanted to come up at him and face him head-on, because somehow the courage you’ve been searching since forever is now at the shoreline of your consciousness, and you feel like you’ve never been braver than before.

 

Step.

 

Step.

 

Step.

 

Then, you stopped.

 

Not because fear has suddenly crept into you nor did the courage vanish into thin air like some kind of bubble.

 

You stopped because of a certain something holding you back from embarrassment and going backwards than you intended to.

 

It’s not a matter of brain vs. heart moment, it’s simply both of them choosing the path of maturity.

 

The maturity to let it go and keep moving forward.

Wherever it would lead you to in life.

 

You closed your eyes for brief moment. Then you turned around and walked the opposite way.

 

Fairytales don’t just have a good or bad ending. Sometimes, it concludes with an open-ending, and readers get to envision what kind of stories they go from there.

 

You may not undo the happenings in the past, but you can write your own kind of fairytale from here on out.

And, it involves not dwelling in things that have already happened.

 

 

 

Notes:

thank you for reading! ♡

might do a prequel of this if the mood strikes me who knows