Friday, August 30, 2013 @ 11:25 PM
Student performance night had just ended and I was there, as usual, a part of the faceless crowd. Most of the performances were shitty and boring; no one except a few took their acts seriously. Perhaps they were nervous on stage but that's such a weak excuse. My mind drifted and I found myself staring at him. She was scratching and rubbing his back gently and he was clearly enjoying it. Amongst the beating of the drums and the off-key voices of the lead singer, that little scene in the dark captivated me.
It was all too familiar; it was as if I was him, and you were her. With every stroke of her hand, I felt the gentleness of your hand caressing my back, consoling me, comforting me. My heart swelled to the size of a football and for a moment there, I can't breathe. It beat faster than the pounding of the drums, twice as quick as the plucking of the electric guitar. Warmth flood all over me as I thought about you. I always think about you. Just last night, I thought how great it would feel to be embraced in your arms again. I remembered you were the last person I thought of at night before I went unconscious.
Few days ago, I woke up crying. I woke up from a dream, not a nightmare, but a dream because it wasn't scary or horrific. It was a sad and frustrating dream. I wonder whether such dreams exist, or whether I am supposed to feel like this with these sorts of dreams. And the first person I thought about was you. If only you were here to hug me tightly and rock me slowly in your arms, tell me softly that everything's going to be alright.
I always think about you. Whenever I'm alone, I can't help but think about you. Anywhere I go, something will surely remind me of you. What do you think about the weather today? Aren't those newly-bloomed cherry blossoms lovely? Would you like your gelato in a cone or in a cup? Do you think I should get this beanie or not? It's on sale.
But we spoke. In fact, just a few moments before the performance started. My heart remained cold when I heard your voice; it always does that although my skin burnt with the warmth in your voice. My replies were curt, blunt, tired. How are you? How was your day? What have you been up to lately? Simple words are the hardest to spit. Our conversation, as usual, didn't last long and ended on a bad note. I was left disappointed, not with you, but with myself.
"Being alone doesn't mean you're lonely." A famous quote positively received by everyone. But if I might add, true, being alone doesn't mean you're lonely, but it tends to get lonely after a while. You cannot be strong for too long, you cannot be alone for too long. You're made to connect, to feel, to love. Or else your insides will start eating you up, consuming your whole being, leaving you empty.
"Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could."
We've known each other for so long but I still don't know how to love you. Love you well, love you properly, love you like how you're supposed to be loved. I believe it's true that love requires courage, even if not in the most chivalrous forms but in simple daily actions such as asking about your well-being and apologising for my mistakes. I wish someone would provide classes to teach people how to treat your loved ones right and not take them for granted. I'd then attend those classes to learn how to love. I wish someone can teach me how to love, teach me how to speak with patience and kindness.
Your birthday is in five days. I thank God everyday for your existence and for your love - it is almost comparable to His. I don't think anyone can ever replace you in my life but those words will forever remain stuck in my throat, just like my feelings for you will forever remain stuck in my soul.
I miss you. Dearly. What happened to us?
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