Dear You, Pt. 13

dear you

You remained in the silence that filled the room. Even the dust that fell from the ceiling knew of you and could recall your name. Your memories became engraved on the streets with every step that you took and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. In a few short months, you became an inspiration to many and a ball of sunshine that could never be snuffed out. And for that, I thank you. I thank you for the immense amount of happiness that you brought into my life, from the three a.m. texts to even the five p.m. angry outbursts. I didn’t realize it then, but you left little parts of your soul on the pavement that I would gladly pick up and call my own. Of course I would offer them back to you but you’d always decline and say it was mine to keep. I would take note when your steps had no bounce and when your shoulders drooped lower than usual. But you always replied that you were okay or fine or something along those lines. And I believed you. I blindly believed you because in a short amount of time, that was what I was trained to do. My instinct told me to trust you and to believe every word that you had said or ever will say. And that was exactly what I did. But now you are gone and I can never see you again. As I sit here on the other side, I wonder what I could have done better. I wonder if I could have said something to stop you from leaving. Even though I realized that every ball of light can fall into the darkness, it didn’t make sense for you. And I wish I  could pick out a reason why, because maybe then it will be easier. Maybe then I will be able to say ‘Ah, so you felt this way, too.’ I promise I will not curl up in a corner and cry for too long, but please understand that it is something that must be done.

I miss you and I love you,


A Great Perhaps

Life is a terrible mistress whose thoughts and actions are left in the deep unknown until they happen accordingly to her own schedule. Sometimes life can present us with a thing of beauty. Maybe it’s a budding romance to warm us up in the cold winter. Or it could possibly be the acceptance letter (or in this day and age, an e-mail) that we had been eagerly waiting for. Of course, on the other side of things, life can also present us with a thing of misery. Life’s misery could come in the form of death, maybe not in the literal sense, but the death of a dream or passion that we once held onto, the death of a relationship that we once held near and dear to our hearts.

And even though life is unpredictable and sometimes cold, it still prompts us to seek a Great Perhaps. For my own “Great Perhaps”, the color of it changed dramatically after my college graduation. It did not feel as warm or welcoming as it did before. Rather, it felt like a cold, dark ocean whose tide relentlessly attacked and pulled at my feet, in an attempt to drown me. Now, I say this because I felt like I was stumbling around in life, as if I were born with two left feet. I did not know who I was or what I wanted to be. I awkwardly tiptoed around the question of “What are you doing now” addressed to me from friends and family, as an uncomfortable sensation swelled up in my chest. It was difficult, to say the least, to face not only my parents, but to also face the reflection in the mirror. I felt worthless and that no matter how hard I dreamed or tried, my efforts would fall short. It was infuriating to know that I had once been viewed with so much potential, but I had suddenly stopped short and become somewhat a failure.

But here comes the beauty of the “Great Perhaps.” I realized that with a storm, there must also come the sun. It may take a while, but it will always appear afterwards. And having this hope strapped onto my chest, I trekked through all of these previously laid expectations and began picking up where I left off. I slowly began to figure out who I am and what I wanted to become, although I had supposedly been so certain during college. And perhaps this is the path where I was meant to be all along. And I only wish that I had realized that sooner. In essence, this post is neither an affirmation that I am completely okay, or extremely not okay. Rather it is a reminder to myself, and maybe to all of you, that we are all on a journey to seek a Great Perhaps. We are all lost souls looking for a permanent home and I know we will all find it in the end. So good luck on your journey, for I will be there with you.

Dear You, Pt. 12

dear you

I can see the hesitation in the creases of your face. I can feel your hands trembling from a mile away. I can hear your heart jump out of your chest, screaming that your calm composure is all but a lie. How can I not know? How could you hide your feelings from someone like me? It’s funny. You were never like this before. You were as confident as a lioness out for a hunt, knowing full well that it will end in success and the pride would be fed. But somehow, somewhere along the way, your resolve wavered and your eyes began to flicker. Instead of fearless leaps, you took small, timid steps. Seeing this side of you was unsettling, like seeing a ghost materialize right in front of me. And I guess, more or less, that’s what you had become, a ghost. The longer I looked at you, the more you resembled an empty shell of the person you once were. You became a lifeless zombie like everyone else. I only wish that I had noticed sooner. For that, I am truly sorry. I am sorry that I was unable to grab hold of you before you plunged into a dark abyss, out of sight and possibly out of reach. If I dived in after you, would your soul be able to return? If not, would you be able to find your way back on your own? The longer I ask these questions, the less likely it seems that you will be able to come back. So don’t try to dissuade me nor try to stop me. Just promise me one thing: that you will stay alive.

I will bring you back,

Dear You, Pt. 11

dear you

You were (and possibly still are) my biggest and oldest “what if”. Although the past may be buried by the sands of time, sometimes I look upon our memories for more than a second. But I am always cautious to tread around the boundaries of an arm’s reach. For if I get too close, I’m deadly afraid that I will be tempted to pick them up again and blindly hope for the impossible. That all those “what if” statements turned into fact instead of a possibility, a scene of fiction that only existed in my mind. However, we unfortunately lost contact ages ago. It was neither a falling out nor an awkward atmosphere that drove us apart. Rather, what had happened was a natural phenomenon that occurs in many relationships: time. As time passed, we walked on separate paths and grew distant. As time passed, our interests changed and so did our view of romance. As time passed, I eventually learned that my heart was not meant for you. And with that revelation, I was able to heal. I was able to move on and away from the spot I was rooted to, while I foolishly waited for your return. But sometimes I revisit those memories. Sometimes I liked to think ,”What if you had been brave enough to say yes?” Sometimes I wondered, “What if I fell in love too fast and at too young of an age?” Sometimes I asked no one in particular, “What if we had gotten together?” All of these thoughts of “what if”, I had forced myself to bury somewhere in the corner of my soul. And at first, it was heartbreaking, for I truly believed that we were meant to end up together. But now, I am older and more mature. I’m sure that you are, as well. So even if we cross paths once again, may we greet each other with our lips closed and eyes facing forward, letting the silence do it’s work. But there’s a thought that crosses my mind.

What if I fall for you again,