12am.

I was there when at 14, 17, 20, 21... But never to listen to waves crashing against the shore, never on serene nights like that. I chattered endlessly for I was certain if I stopped speaking, someone would've heard my palpitating heart. I don't know why I agreed to something my usual cautious self would have never dreamt of. It seems that, no matter your age, heartbreaks turn you silly and mindless.

1am. 

I'm not sure when would our paths will cross again after that night, but meeting him reaffirmed my belief that we came from worlds apart. I liken us to two zigzag lines, crossing paths once in a while but deviating further after each time. That wasn't to say I regret him. I'd always be thankful I let him in, thankful he taught me so many lessons, thankful he allowed me to feel love again.

When his gaze met mine, everything felt the same. My world brightened up again, with just his pure existence.  But his arms are so used to someone else now that they felt awkward around me.

That night, I saw her — the girl I could never be. I hope she grows to love him as much as he adores her. I hope she loves him the way I wanted to. I hope she never breaks his heart. I still wish him happiness. All the happiness in the world that I wanted to, but couldn't, give.

2am. 

I'm too young to be having quarter-life crisis.
Have I made the right decisions that will lead me to become a better person?

I'm too old to be trying something new.
Every decision I made this year made a turn for the worse. I feel so inadequate and, in turn, scared.

3am. 

I spoke of my first love, my longest relationship. Our dates revolved around hanging out at the pathetic shopping mall near our school. We threw the word 'forever' around — didn't we all thought we'd marry our first love? The corner of your lips turned upwards, because you did too.

I don't remember how he tricked my shy teenage self into holding his hands, I don't remember how my heart probably went wild when we first hugged but I remember the location of our first kiss. The unromantic location, in hindsight, is the only reason my first kiss remained fresh in my memory.

How is he doing? I'd never know. It's true that your first love hurts you the most.

4am. 

What do you do when a girl's first supposed hero happened to also be a villain in disguise? I spent the first few years of my life tossing and turning in bed at night until he carried me down the streets of Clementi, teaching me to read signs with his limited vocabulary. 20 odd years later, I still battle insomnia daily; instead of him, now I seek solace in books and occasionally, laying words down side by side.

The night faded. Y2K, suddenly I was four again, the crybaby who was afraid of school. A gross mixture of mucus and tears smeared my face as I begged, "I don't wanna go to school." Those two hours in nursery felt like days; days grew into months, months into years. My desire to become a student 17 years later, ironically, became the cause of our most recent confrontation.

5am

It hit me when I took a whiff of his cologne.
Some things a girl never forgets.

6am. 

He was my second. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. What have I done wrong? I'm sorry. Speak to me. Tell me what's wrong. I will be better for you. I'm sorry. I'm begging you. Everything he took from me during the two years we were together... I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. He returned my all — every bit of my heart, my love and my pride — with prevarication.

I never want to remember, but I always do. The sweet surprises, his first book out, nightly phone calls during his BMT, action movies I always fell asleep watching, every book in, his POP / POC / ORD. Then, words that stung more than the things hurled across the room, constant yelling, a broken phone on the floor, and the steep descent from  "you're my motivation"  to "I stopped trying to love you."

The waves got stronger as they attempted to cleanse me of my fears. Had I imagined it?
Hearts heal, but scars always remain.

7am. 

And then there's you.