The Melancholy of Cassandra


Two years ago, you asked:

“How did you know?”

“You told me, silly~”

Sometimes, this is the truth. You would tell me things whenever you are in your most natural state.

When you allow your emotions to be free, without restrain, without mistrust

When you let down your guard

and stop doubting yourself and me

stop questioning why

I am the way I am

why I do the things I do for others

for you~

“Why are you doing this for a hound dog like me?”

Because I am compelled to, my sweet~

When you simply let yourself be you

and accept that I am the way I am

I do the things I do for others

for you

without hope

without agenda

without conditions

Simply because I am compelled to~

Why did I extend an olive branch to the very person who blinded you to me and incriminated me for a wrong inflicted on me? 

Why I gave you my blessings on that fateful June morning when your inner voice told me you wanted me and your hand took mine back at that last minute before we needed to part ways – you, to work; me, to school~ I looked up at you and at the last minute you kissed me. You could not help but kiss me goodbye even though you knew you were not supposed to~

Two years later, still incredulous:

“How did you know?”

“You told me, remember?”

Sometimes, this is not the whole truth. But what was I supposed to say? How was I to tell you that I just know? I just sense things. Intuition? Prophetic gift? I don’t know. I just know that I can tell by your every word, every gesture~

Every feeling you project into this world comes to me automatically~

That’s how I know

Without seeing you at work, I know about your confidence and your relations~

I kept telling you over and over again to believe in yourself

Without ever looking at you, I know when you were hurt, when you were happy

I kept telling myself over and over to have faith in the man in you deep down

And that is how I know what happened back then, this year… and most the recent…

It came to me like lightening

When you felt sad, I could feel it

I’d find myself crying in my sleep and awaken to pray for you

When you were in your darkest moments, I could sense it

My heart would suddenly ache and pain would overcome me for no reason whatsoever

When you became disappointed in yourself, in others, I know

So I reach out…

But how can I tell you that everything between us is no coincidence?

It’s crazy

It’s miraculous

It’s unbelievable


I am inextricably,



linked to you, darling~

That’s how I was able to feel her

That’s how you found me

time and time again.

That’s why you came back

to the very place we met and where I gave myself to you~

When you don’t realize, don’t know

You’d find yourself back to me

That’s why I did something I did not understand why nor even want to do

at 3 am in the morning

I stayed awake on that Thursday, only to have you find yourself back to me 3 days later

Then again

and again

and again

Would you believe that

each time, it was me? Only I could not let you know

for fear that the truth would scare you

You called out to me, unconsciously

So, stupidly, foolishly, I come to you time and time again

Even when you didn’t know, I was there~

to support and witness every decision and action that serve to break my very soul

I wish, sometimes, for your sake and mine, that I could break this link

because it turned me into Cassandra

Two years ago

Two years later

I stopped replying, suddenly, because I felt it again

Your relapse into the same pattern

the same cycle of comfort and familiarity

that would end in heartbreaks and pain

only this time,

innocents would be involved if you don’t stop

Kindness and gratitude are my antidote

but I am only human…

That’s partly why I keep writing

To save records

I need to document everything

my feelings

my palpitations

how they respond and echoes to yours

because one day

you’d see

you’d believe

But I don’t know when

My gift doesn’t tell me

and I’m so, so scared that it’d be too late

when age catches up to you

 Gift of foresight

Curse of disbelief

Woe is Cassandra

Accursed is she

Accused is she

Whose eyes cannot unsee

Whose heart cannot unfeel

Whose mouth cannot explain

The peculiar that surround her

Only that it is the way it is

She screams the truth

Pens the facts

Bleeds the evidence

Cries tears of prophecy

If only you’d take off your glasses of denial

and see


She’d be free

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