I could feel it burning as I stepped outside the house: my face, as if the air were a curtain of fire, or a pool of acid. You asked me if everything was all right this morning and I told you yes, just as I jumped from my chair when my phone vibrated on the table during breakfast.
I had meant to tell you today. I had meant to tell you yesterday. I had meant to tell you a month, two months, several months ago. It was a party and we were both drunk, she and I, and we laughed, and we had stepped outside the house. I messaged you, good night, my love, I'm going to be late. You texted, take care.
You asked me if everything was all right this morning and I told you yes. I will probably tell you yes again tomorrow, and maybe the day after that. Every day will be a series of yeses that will grow fainter and fainter until we will only have this quiet between us. And maybe by then, I won't need to explain anything anymore.
This story also appears on Instagram: TWO50TWO.
HELLO, MY NAME IS EVAN TAN.
I'm a writer and communications professional based in Manila, Philippines. Outside of my regular job, I like to travel, work out, volunteer, watch movies and plays, go to art galleries/ fairs and museums, read books, and eat vegetarian food.
More about me here.