I love (hate) you.

Heily Concepcion

301 Robinson Ave.

Newburgh, NY 12550

To the Sun, I love you.

I love Sunlight. I loved the way it shined on my features, the way it made me feel when the world was crashing down. I loved the way it filled me with joy when I didn’t know the definition and the countless uptakes of serotonin it gave me. I loved the way it smiled, the way it laughed at my jokes. I loved our daily conversations and endless days as if I had known them for years. I loved that it was always there looking down on me to be the backbone of my bad decisions. I loved the adoration and fondness behind their stares. I loved stupid sleepovers and talking about books I’d never read. I loved all the TV shows that I’m sorry I never watched. If I could go back I promise to watch every single one. I loved your room and walls filled with personality, I loved the photos of us that are properly empty now that we’re done. I loved our hugs and stupid faces, the ones that no one understood because they were in different places. To the girl who was quite literally my sun, continue to shine and fill the world with light so that I can continue to love you as if we are still one. 

To the Sun, I hate you.

I hate Sunlight. I hate being blinded by your actions and conversations as if you did nothing wrong. I hate that I look up at the sky and watch your every move but cant talk about my exciting day. I hate your colors whether they are true or not. I hate our memories that I twist and turn to fit the narrative that you were the only one in the wrong. I hate that you forget that I’m human and the term “I miss you” has no meaning behind it, that you can’t seem to understand why I did it. I hate that I don’t trust you anymore and that if I was asked why I wouldn’t be able to say any more. I hate your wandering eyes, the ones I can’t look at. I hate that you changed your hair, resembling a person I don’t look for anymore. I hate the clothes I wear because you don’t pick them out. I hate that you think we were nothing because I couldn’t open my mouth. I hate that you’re only out for 12 hours a day and when darkness takes over the world you aren’t one call away. I hate that you will never understand that you aren’t a saint and I’m just a woman. I hate that I dream of our memories and our picture-perfect moments. I hate that I still love you from New York to California but would never step foot on a plane if it meant flying back to you. To the girl, who made me hate the sun because all it reminds me of is you and the apologies I won’t utter unless I see the moon.

Let us meet again when the sun shines red.

Sincerely,

Heily Concepcion