Dear You, Pt. 7

dear you

When I first saw you, I did not think I would ever be inclined to start a conversation with you. You had an aura around you that seemed to constantly warn others from making any form of contact, as if a single touch or look would result in unexplained convulsions and a sudden loss of blood. When I first met you, I confirmed my suspicious and tagged you as someone cold, an emotionless human being unwilling to share even the whitest of lies with another individual. And so we went on our separate ways and never did I think I would see you again. But see you again I did. Not just once, but multiple times. Our opinions would clash, like two alphas trying to assert their dominance over the other. Mutual friends would notice the obvious tension, some even asked why we continued to linger around each other for as long as we did. (Thirty minutes did not seem long at all). It seemed as if we were moons to a planet drawn into the same orbit but heading in opposite directions. So when I first kissed you, all laws of physics came crashing down around us. Even the birds that were busily preparing their nests stopped in their tracks and gawked at the bewildering sight of the two of us joined by the lips. And like the Red Sea they parted while a crowd of silence marched between us, leaving us with nothing to do but fiddle with our thumbs, our eyes darting from one wall to the next. Needless to say, we shared an awkward first kiss. We were two opposites that seemingly despised the other, yet could not go a week without any form of interaction. Even our eyes meeting would be enough. But that was as far as we could go. Just one, awkward first kiss that sprung up in the heat of a moment that we would both like to forget. But when I first started to think about you before I fell asleep, my fears were confirmed.

I wish to keep these walls intact,
Me

Dear You, Pt. 6

dear you

You were there for a lot of “firsts”. The first time I got into trouble at school, the first time I became attracted to the opposite sex, the first time I had a falling out with a friend. The list is endless and it would probably take me at least half a day to get to them all. And rightly so, you were also there for much of my “lasts”. The last day as a senior in high school, the last afternoon at my childhood home, the last day at Disneyland, last night. Unknowingly, or perhaps according to fate, you have been there throughout my life, walking with me side by side. Our hands would occasionally touch and a jolt of electricity would shoot up my arm. It would always be a friendly, loving jolt, like the soft caress of a Sunday morning politely asking me to wake up. Needless to say, I always enjoyed your presence. There were moments I craved it, selfishly wishing that I could become your only priority. But there were also moments on the other side of the spectrum. There were moments that I loathed your entire being; the way you talked, the way you walked, the way you smiled, everything irked me to no end and made me wish that you would leave like a cool, gentle breeze midday in July. However, I knew that if you left, I would have regretted all the things that we couldn’t have done. It’s funny. “I would have regretted…”. Looking back at that thought now, it seems so silly. We come into this life alone and we eventually leave on our own. And now seems like the perfect time for me to go out on my own. I will never forget all the moments that we shared together. Those moments are too special and too precious to ever erase. But now I have realized that I will not be able to become the best version of myself with you by my side. It seems a little harsh, doesn’t it? But it’s the truth. So I come with my first and last request: let me go. Gather up the courage of a lion, because I know your heart is as weak as a mouse, and allow me to go on this journey. I promise that one day, I will come back and you can lock me in a room and throw away the key, but as of this moment, I must jump into the abyss and seek out the parts of my soul that have been waiting to be found all this time.

So farewell, we will meet again,
Me

A(n) (E)strange(d) Process

Throughout life, I have learned that there is a process for everything. And usually, although these processes are quite easy to understand, they may prove a challenge or have a few more extra hurdles than we originally expected. In order to get into college, we need to go through an admission process that could take months to complete. In order to go on a trip, there needs to be a gradual process of planning, starting from figuring out how many days you’re going to be away up until buying the ticket and booking the room. Even milking cows and gathering eggs from chickens have a specific process that one must follow in order to get the desired result. And more often than not, when we go through these processes, we reach that desired result. At the end of applying for college, I was able to get into my desired university. After months of planning and debating, I was able to spend two weeks traveling with friends. Going through these processes in life always leaves us feeling fulfilled, allowing us to add on to the list of things that we’re grateful for.

However, just as life is full of processes that we actively and consciously choose, there are certain processes that naturally occur without us noticing. Of course, one of these natural processes is falling in love. Sometimes, it’s easy to pinpoint the exact moment when we fall in love with someone. This could come with a date, a place, and time of day. Other times though, not so much. One day you could be hanging out with a friend at your house, watching Netflix and quite literally chilling on the couch. The next day, the light could hit them at just the right angle and suddenly a couple months later boom- you come to a realization that you’ve fallen in love with your best friend. The process of love is strange and awkward and sometimes uncomfortable. But the desired outcome is always the same: to be with that person for as long as possible. The word “forever” or “always” may linger more frequently on our lips during this process of love, but it’s only natural. As human beings, we want to be with people and we want to share our life’s processes with someone special, someone who we connect with on various levels, someone who can reciprocate the love that we give to them.

And as natural and strange and as welcoming the process of love may be, there is another process that is coupled with it: the process of falling out of love. An estranged process. I’ve experienced my fair share of heartbreak and I’ve also given a fair amount as well. Some, I had the privilege and the opportunity to remain as friends. Others, we became estranged and never saw each other ever again. To those that may not know what estranged means, to put it simply, it is a process of distancing yourself from someone you love or may have loved. Usually the end result is that the two (or more) of you become strangers. Just like the process of love, sometimes an estranged process happens unknowingly over a course of time. One day, their eyes are like stars handpicked from the garden of Greeks gods. And the next, their eyes are like tiny little beetles that stirs up a nauseating feeling of disgust in your stomach. (Okay, that may have been a little extreme, but you get the picture.) And the final outcome is often messy, undesired, and ends with separation. But this estranged process not only applies to lovers. It can apply to friendships and even family members. Which leads me to why I started this post in the first place.

Earlier, I said that some processes happened naturally and without our full conscious knowledge. In my case, it seems as if I’m constantly trying to distance myself from the two people that should matter the most to me: my parents. Now, to save all the nitty gritty details, in short my parents were too young when they had me, they tried to work it out but they couldn’t. In the end they broke up (not divorced), and I ended up in my dad’s custody but was raised by my grandparents. Now throughout my life, I always acknowledged that the two people who conceived me were my parents and I saw them as a father and mother figure. I respected them, for a brief period of time I also despised them, but I ended up loving them all the more. Once I came to understand them as fellow human beings, I enjoyed the time that I spent with either one of my parents and cherished those moments.

But as with life, an unexpected process came my way. I began to feel distant between the two of them and it seemed as if my relationship with my mother and father had somehow changed. As I saw them less and less, coupled with the way we interacted with each other, the more I felt as if I share a brotherly and sisterly bond with my parents. The question “Do I still see them as my parental figure?” floated around quite frequently in my mind. On one side, I had the consistent thought that this may be a certain phase in my life that I would be able to get over after a while. On another note, however, I wondered if this could be the end result of that early separation between my parents. It’s strange, really strange that after all these years of loving them regardless I could feel this way. But in the end it has happened and I need to find a way to make sense of all of this. And I feel the first step is acknowledging that this feeling of distance exists.

If there was one thing that, I think, should be taken from this post it’s that every relationship has the possibility of an end, whether it’s with family, friends, or a loved one, there is an end. However, the end is not nearly as important as the process leading up to it. Definitely a note to self if there ever was one.

Dear You, Pt. 5

dear you

Is it wrong that I have forgotten about you? In the beginning, even after you left, you still remained. Your name was etched onto my lips, your scent buried underneath a pile of clothing forgotten in the corner of a closet, your whisper trapped within the walls of a now empty room. I constantly found myself awake at night staring at the blank ceiling above, convinced that you would eventually obscure my view and remind me that you were still here. Even my dreams tiptoed on line separating reality and fiction, causing my brain to go into a hysterical panic whenever it tried to determine what was real and what wasn’t. On most days, I would welcome the notion that you were still around and firmly believed that your absence would merely last a moment. And in the next you would arrive at the door, asking to be let in because you forgot your key. And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, I slowly began to recuperate. I began to feel the harsh sting of loneliness and the inevitable realization that you had left. Unknowingly, my feet would lead me to places I had locked away in my memory, places that only we knew. Perhaps sadly enough, after some time had passed, I did not associate you with those places. It was as if my mind had developed a defense mechanism whose main purpose was to exterminate all memories of us. Like how the body creates white blood cells to combat germs, my body deemed that the best path to recovery would be to rid myself of you. I could not fight it, for this process seemed necessary to heal and to ensure that these wounds would not open once more. But regretfully so, I have forgotten you. I have forgotten the memories, your smile, your sweet embrace. Everything. But if we ever bump into each other, pretend you do not recognize me. Do not ask me if I’ve been well. Because if I remember, if I recall anything from when the idea of “us” existed, I will be unable to return to this state of peace.

So goodbye, and I hope to never meet you again,
Me

Dear You, Pt. 4

dear you

It’s been a really long time, hasn’t it? I couldn’t believe it at first, when I saw you. It was as if I were in one of my dreams, you know, the ones I would always tell you about. The kind of dream in which I could never differentiate between reality and fiction. Rather than having a dream that reeked with blood and was overpopulated with monsters, not being able to tell what was real and what wasn’t scared me the most. But you knew that. You knew practically everything about me. Or did you? I’m sorry. I can’t really remember, it’s been too long. Especially since it’s been so long, I can barely remember a thing. It’s been years since I saw you last. But I was always like that. Forgetful. But I could never completely forget you. Even when I tried. And trust me, I sincerely tried, but I never could. For a while, I was quite mad at myself. For a long time actually, I was mad that I couldn’t have done more for you. That I wasn’t able to do more for myself to get over the obstacle that I called you. It was infuriating. And every time I looked in the mirror, I saw small, yet evident traces of your presence. In the way I smiled, to the empty spot that your toothbrush used to occupy and even in the way the water slowly trickled down the drain. It was exhausting living that way. And quite frankly, I would have continued to do so. I would ha- I did fall into a rut, doing the same old menial tasks over and over and over again, with the very idea that it was in my best interest to forget about your existence. But like I said, I never could. And once I realized that, once I embraced this strange, yet comforting fact, I began to get better. I started to breathe again and once more, I was alive. So what happens next, now that I’ve seen you after such a long time has passed? For now, I shall keep that a secret. For now, just know that I am okay. And I guess it’s time to say my farewells.

Goodbye… for now,
Me