Dear You, Pt. 10

dear you

It started from hello. I wish it had started from a kiss, but I will put aside such a cliche statement and firmly say it started from hello. (Or perhaps that’s a little more cliche). To think that after all this time, only now do I realize that it was possibly love at first sight. And come to think of it, I believe it was. With every conversation and even the slightest touch, I could feel the wings of butterflies furiously flapping throughout my body and sending shivers up and down my skin. It was glorious and slightly terrifying at the same time. But then, as random and fierce as a bolt of lighting striking the ground, I was ecstatic to learn that you felt the same. Towards someone as lacking as me, a charming person like you found interest and comfort. Suddenly a million different possibilities and moments began to flow out like gates to a dam had been opened. The idea of us, of our future, seemed so bright and as endless as the galaxies floating around in the depths of the night sky. But that’s all there was: an idea. An idea that we matched so well  together and that we would last an eternity or more. The idea that neither of us would ever entertain the notion of a break-up. An idea so strong, that it would eventually take a form of it’s own. Or so we thought. We were a budding flower on a tree branch, whose life was unceremoniously cut short by the strong winds of an unexpected storm. The possibilities of us were endless, however, because of the spontaneity of life, we were unable to reach those expectations. And quite naturally, we wilted. We grew apart and alone and stumbled away from the path that we had once trodden upon together. I dreamed of the day that I would be able to wake up just before dawn and be greeted by your sleeping silhouette. The possibility of that reality no longer exists. I never wondered what life after you, after us, would be like, but now I think I know.

It’s something like this,


The Art of Being Alone

There are several things that I’ve learned after high school. One of them being that you never know who will remain in your life and who will naturally and silently leave. This is a given fact and occurrence that happens to everyone. At least that’s what I would like to believe. Losing some friends is unfortunate, but some relationships are unable to withstand the trials of time and distance. But there are those friends who consciously make the effort to stay. Although I may not see these friends for months, we’re able to pick up right where we left off, as if we had just seen each other the day before.

Recently, however, after the formal “Hello” and “How have you been?” there have been more questions concerning my love life. Whether I’m currently seeing someone, have interest in someone, pursuing someone, etc. And the fact of the matter is that I am not currently in any romantic relationship. And naturally their follow-up question is “Why?” And quite honestly, I’m pretty unsure myself. Sure, I give reasons that I’m not looking or that there is no one that really catches my eye. But there are attractive and charming people out there that obviously do catch my eye and fill my stomach with a swarm of butterflies. Or more accurately, a butterfly. Just one. However, I never seem to be able to muster up the courage to “simply” walk up to them and blatantly say “Hey, I think you’re beautiful, we should talk.” (Okay, that may be a little too forward, but you know what I mean.) So for the most part, aside from one or two “some” relationships, I have been single for a while now and I am okay with that.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be in a relationship. If a potential significant other were to show interest in me, I would reciprocate that interest. Simple as that. But for now, I will continue to to master the art of being alone. Some people probably disagree that being alone or single would be categorized as an art. But I think it is. According to Merriam-Webster, the word ‘art’ is defined as “something that is created with imagination and skill and that is beautiful or that expresses important ideas and feelings.” Sure, having a significant other is great. But the absence of one should not stop you from doing things that you want to do; like watching a movie, going out for a walk, or going to the nearest coffee shop and actually sitting down, by yourself. There is no requirement in this world that in order to experience life you must have a significant other. And accepting that is truly an art. Just like any other form of art, the art of being alone requires patience, dedication, and moderate skill. And not everyone can master it, nor can everyone handle being alone. And it’s unfortunate. But realizing this fact has made the lull of relationships in my life that much more bearable. Being single has also helped me to realize certain facts about myself: my desire for sentimental conversations, my strange addiction to horror movies even though I get scared, and my insatiable thirst for wanderlust, just to name a few. Trying to perfect the art of being alone has lead me to learn more about myself and to develop the qualities that I had been lacking. And at the end of the day, I have a life to live, with or without a significant other. Life doesn’t stop for anyone, so I shouldn’t stop to wait for a significant other.

So I feel like for this particular post, I should put a TLDR. Here it goes.
TLDR; Although relationships are great, there is no requirement in the world that says in order to live out my life, I must have a significant other by my side. Being alone is an art because I am a beautiful collection of important ideas and feelings. And so are you.

(But if you have a friend that likes cats, listens to K-pop, and makes the decision to watch horror movies around midnight, then send them my way.)
(That was obviously a joke. I think.)

Dear You, Pt. 9

dear you

I was not surprised that you threw me aside as soon as you held me close. As if I were some form of infectious disease that, once discovered, caused you to take every precautionary measure. Maybe it was irony, maybe it was my horrible luck but I became sick instead. I became sick of hearing your name passed around in conversations that I could only hope to be part of. I became sick of your shadow as I tried to tiptoe around the edges but found myself constantly falling into it’s dark abyss. I became sick of counting as I counted the number of times that my hopes were brought up and soared among the clouds, only to come crashing down and be reminded that it was only a paper plane destined to reunite with the earth. Perhaps there is a possibility that I could be considered as a masochist for the exact number of times that I inflicted pain upon my fragile heart, I am not able to fully recall. And every single time, I had the choice to turn the other way, march, and eventually become one with the horizon and fervently hope that you would be unable to find me. But I could not go through with it. I became quite familiar with the pain of one-sided affection. The familiarity of this pain made me feel somewhat safe, as odd or wrong as that sounds. It was one of the only consistencies of my life. So as I continue to take on this role as an outsider looking in, do not pity me and do not try to bring me into your life. It is far too late for that. Instead, please support my decision in fully isolating my entire being from you. I have learned how to stand on these two feet, no thanks to you. But thanks to you, I now know that sometimes being alone is necessary. That being alone is quite okay.

I have grown to like being alone, so please keep your distance,

Dear You, Pt. 8

dear you

Your dreams were small gems hidden on continents filled with uncontrollable wilderness. And because of that, people told you that it would be too dangerous and too risky. But despite the opposition that you faced, you still decided to venture out, and after every obstacle, you dusted yourself off and simply smiled. In that small gesture, you constantly told everyone around you that it was okay to get lost and to fall and to think of giving up, as long as you kept moving forward. And that’s exactly what you did. You kept moving forward. Towards a dream that would hopefully become a location that you could affectionately call “here.” That when someone would ask “What’s your dream?” you would confidently reply with “Here. Here and now, that is my dream.” This, you wished on stars and carefully watched the clouds just in case a fairy godmother or magical genie would descend from the sky. And even when they didn’t, you refused to give up hope. That endless beacon of hope slowly became my light, too. You became the light in a sea of darkness, as I struggled to keep afloat and prevent myself from drowning. It was as if I could travel to the moon and as long as you’re by my side I would be able to breathe. Slowly, but certainly, you became a necessity and I refused to let you out of my sight. For if I did, then the darkness would crawl back and swallow me whole. But luckily or unluckily, you left. You left right as I learned how to stand again. Although some would have been crushed at a goodbye, I couldn’t have been more grateful. I knew that if you had stayed, I would have become dependent on you and only you. The timing was just right. And now, my timing to say thank you has come. Some months have passed and I am doing just fine. And it’s all thanks to you.

I will not forget your kindness,