Maybe it wasn’t you. Maybe it was just that feeling of us. Maybe it’s just the fear of not finding something like that ever again. How much I hate to admit that it’s never going to been the same. Saying no one’s gonna fill that titanic void you left behind, saying no one’s gonna help put all the broken pieces back together again would probably be an overstatement but it’s very contradictory cause of how true it feels.
It’s not like I gave up all hope in relationships all together. I tried and I failed.
Is it too much to ask for?
Is it too much to want to be happy again?
Feel what I once felt and held so dear to me?
A part of me somehow isn’t ready yet. Not ready to let my guard down and let myself be vulnerable again, not ready to tear down the walls you so willingly helped me build around myself to keep people out. I’m scared, scarred and on the verge of giving up on all hope that someone’s gonna make me feel whole again. Is this the price I’ve to pay for the promise of forever you made?
The most frightening combination of words in the English language, the words that bother me the most ‘what if?’
What if it’s never gonna be the same?
What if I’d be repeating the same mistakes all over again? But this time deliberately.
What if it ends just like it did the last time around?
Htting you hard in the beginning and slowly fading away into nothing, leaving you stranded right back at that place you thought you were brave enough to crawl out of.
You said you had nobody in your life anymore and I responded with an arrogant lie but little do you know about all the pain, hurt and insecurities that hid behind it’s shadow. How much I wanted to just show up at your door that instant with the words my heart desperately felt you needed to hear “I’m not nobody” though a part of me achingly knew how impossible that scenario would be. Just like every other random scenario you make up in your mind to make your mediocre monotonous loveless life feel better.
Is this the cost of forever?
“Half way between the sun and the water, no higher no lower”
Daedalus told him exactly how to fly. But he was a dreamer, ingnoring the warnings he flew too close to the sun and the waxed wings tragically melted. Icarus plunged into the sea and that’s how his life ended
But what many forget is that Icarus also flew. He was a dreamer. And it was not a fall but an end to his triumph.
Half way between the sun and the water, no higher no lower, this is how you’re expected to hold a relationship. Like holding a butterfly in your hands. Make a fist and hold it too tight, you suffocate it to death. Hold it too loose and it flies away.
That leap of faith you take when everything has been going so smoothly for so long that you think it’s gonna be this way forever. You fly too close to the sun. She wakes up one random day and decides she doesn’t feel the same way about you anymore. It’s achingly painful trying to contemplate how someone could go from ‘you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me’ to ‘I don’t think I love you anymore.’
Whatever it was, it ended and your grief lies neither in ‘why’ nor ‘how’ but in ‘what if’. What if this was it? What if everyone just gets one person and that’s the end of it? What if you don’t find something like this ever again?
Or worse, what if you do find someone again but it’s not as good?
Rain drops filled the lonely night sky as the city lights made the stars seem faded tonight. She was neither intense nor spiteful, but was as subtle and calm as an antelope in the mist.
The city missed her like you’d miss an old lover. Like how you’d miss someone whom you hadn’t seen in so long that you didn’t even remember what they looked like anymore.
The embrace of this blissful drizzle was so mesmerizing that the first drop on the window intantly took you to a place of elevated childlike joy. For a moment, just for a moment you forget everything and immerse yourself in one of the very few little joyous pleasures life has to offer. The little subtle things in life. The ones most people miss very often. It was like a rainbow in the night sky, the one you couldn’t see yet know exactly how it feels.
It’s such an amazing feeling how just watching a dog be a dog fills you with so much joy. You bring her into your home, feed her and that’s the end of it, she feels the need to be indebted to you for as long as she’s alive.
She’s there for you whenever you need her even if you’re not able to do the same for her. She’s gonna sit there with her mouth open, tongue out and listen to every high and low of your day. I guess that’s exactly what all of us need, someone who listens. Now, I know you’re gonna argue that she doesn’t understand a word you tell her but I disagree. Cause I know she understands. She even tries to comfort you when she knows you’re feeling low for one reason or the other. Most people don’t sense the pain behind the smile and an “I’m okay” but she never fails to do so.
She waits patiently waits for you to get back to her even if it means that she’ll only get to spend a brief twenty minutes with you. She’ll wait two whole days for those twenty minutes if she has to and that’s all she ever needs.
So yeah, to me she’s not a dog. She’s my furry four legged person. My favorite person.
The past is always one helluva place to visit, but you can’t stay there. This melancholic feeling achingly urging you to run back to it, back to how things once were, back to when it was all rainbows and unicorns, back to when the days seemed brighter and the air felt lighter, back to that one place (or person) that felt like home is unbearable.
No matter how hard you try to move on, no matter how many times you succeed in convincing yourself that you are over it, it’s never really true. Not even the slightest.
Yeah, you try to distract yourself in every way possible but it never works does it?
You do all these things outta desperation. Anything to take it outta your mind. You think that you’ve fixed yourself. You become so fragile all over again and build walls around you and swear you’ll never let anyone in.
But you’re still waiting on the first chance you get to crawl back to it. You know it’s not the right thing to do and that’s the hardest part, knowing that it’s not meant to be but wishing you didn’t.