December wind in Baguio's supposed to feel so cold, but the only coldness I can feel is the one in my heart. Trying not to be jealous is easier said than done. Here I am writing out of jealousy.
... Jealous of the way you praise her beauty, as if I'm not standing close enough to hear your words and feel a sharp sting going through my pride.
I can only stand in silence and not let you know...
... That when I sleep at night, you're in the subconsciousness of my mind.
... That I feel like you're the one I can spend long hours texting with late at night, walk down the hallway and hold hands with, talk about my date and eat lunch or dinner with...
... That you could fill the void growing in my soul.
I think about telling you... or just not telling you. You're confusing me with your words and your actions. I wonder if you ever wish you could tell me the same things you tell her.
But I don't want to keep thinking about this. I don't want to keep thinking about my jealousy.
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