Agency In Self-Destruction
“Stop running away. You need to tell me what’s on your mind, what’s making you react like this. You don’t treat a human being like this. You don’t treat me like this.”
“I’m stepping away from this situation, and I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you earlier…”
I took my bag, put on my shoes, grabbed my jacket, and ordered a taxi.
“Stop, Ega. Just stop doing this.”
You reached for my hand. I walked toward the garage door.
“My taxi is two minutes away. Thank you for having me.”
I hugged you briefly. You were still trying to reach me.
“If you’re walking away right now, there’s no going back.”
Your voice was steady — not cold, just steady enough to make me stop.
“If you walk away now, you won’t just hurt me. You’ll hurt yourself. You’ll hurt us more than ever before. And there’s no going back from this. Ever again, Ega.”
The taxi arrived. Honked a couple of times.
“What should I do with the taxi?”
“Pay him. Tell him to go. You’re staying. Talk to me.”
And I did exactly what you told me to do.
You’re still one of the very few people who can do that to me.
Not complaining. That’s always been a compliment.
I turned love into a ritual where pain became the currency.
When I love, I love hard — intense, consistent, loyal, devoted.
I guarantee you, it’ll be hard to forget. Until the day you’re six feet underground.
My closest friends know which person I’m willing to move mountains for. Who I’d bleed for — without hesitation, without a second thought. I walk my talk, to my own beat. And that beat often makes people lose their sanity, or the confidence to embrace the whole of me into their realm.
I’m one of the realest people they’ve ever had in their lives.
…yet I tend to run away when I get too close to someone’s true, unfakeable colors. I can’t deny it anymore. When your real colors surfaced once again right in front of me, I knew — this would be another blood sport we’d have to attend together.
“We had a great run, yeah?” I asked when I finally sat across from you.
I turned on my pod and held it for a full ten seconds.
“Yes, we did. It’s been five years already. But I remember the good times. When we were still us.”
You pierced me with your unshakeable eyes.
I knew you’d been wanting this conversation for a long time. I wasn’t ready. I would never be ready for this earthquake. Not with you.
“I apologize for my behavior. It was inappropriate. I should’ve asked you before I decided to ask for your time.”
“Apology accepted. Now tell me the truth.”
“I needed a distraction from a pain I’ve been carrying since last year. I was with my closest friends — I told you about this — when your name crossed my mind.”
“Why? Why my name?”
“Because you were the safest place I ever called home.”
“You don’t run away from your own home.”
“I didn’t. I chose another place so I could grow. So I could find myself again.”
“Did you?”
“Almost.”
We stared into each other’s eyes. The air was heavy. We stayed silent for almost ten minutes, careful not to decode anything — because we both knew we’d left each other’s faith the day we agreed to disagree.
That was one of my biggest regrets.
I don’t know about you, but I never asked.
I didn’t want to influence your perception or your decision.
That night, I saw the door and the window slightly open.
I could still feel the breeze coming through.
I thought maybe that was our second chance.
I thought maybe we could work this out.
I thought maybe we’d share the same effort again.
I kept trying to remember who we were when we were together.
I wasn’t in love with the idea of you.
I wasn’t idolizing you.
I was in love with the whole of you — through the brightest and darkest days.
Mostly nights.
Because we were married to our work.
You’re still married to your work up until today.
I kept reassuring myself that I wasn’t being delusional when I saw that door and window slightly open. We shared the same heartbeat when our hands touched. The same rhythm of breath when we shared a cold can of beer.
And for the love of God, this is the exact blood sport I’ve been trying to avoid since the last time we met.
And yet, there have been so many what-ifs since that night.
What if this was just a temporary high?
What if this was never going to work?
What if I was just being delusional?
What if I was bored, back in the city, chasing adrenaline?
What if there was never an us to begin with?
What if we were just two lonely, responsible adults — too stubborn to admit that we needed each other for the rest of our lives?
You never asked too much.
I never asked too much.
We both knew our capacity. Our capability.
When we didn’t have time, we said it.
When we did, we lay on your bed, shared our darkest, unspoken thoughts for hours, made love for more hours, ordered food, and ate it right there.
We never cared about the dining room.
Or the living room.
Or your book corner back at your old place.
I was never in love with the idea of you.
I was in love with the whole of you.
I don’t know about you, but I never asked.
And if there’s ever a second chance for us, the work will be harder than ever — for both of us.
This time, I know I’ll be ready.
I don’t know about you, but I never asked.
Eight months after that night, I learned quite a few things about you and me — in a balanced amount.
I understand why you did what you did.
I understand why I did what I did.
I understand why the universe postponed certainty for us.
The patterns were everywhere — in gestures, in encounters, in lessons, in unspoken truths.
I can't win
So let's play
And somewhere
Somewhere, the atoms stopped fusing
I'm still your favourite regret
You're still my weapon of choosing
And out there
Stuck in a quantum pattern
Tangled with what I never said
You say it doesn't matter
I wanna be forgiven
I wanna choke up chunks of my own sins
Even if the sky cracks in mourning
And the heavens just won't open up for me
Would you invite me in again?
Let me pay for my arrogance?
Won't you show me your weakness?”
Quantum entanglement: two things are bound even when separated.
Unresolved attachment.
Unspoken truth.
Emotional latency.
Nothing moves forward because nothing collapses into certainty.
Ubud, 20th December 2025
“Blood Sport” - Sleep Token
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