Foreword: This is not just about one person, but rather an amalgam of many different experiences crammed into one blog post.
Hello. I’ve missed you.
It’s been awhile since we’ve talked and I really regret that.
Every so often, I’ve sent you a message in an attempt to keep you apart of my life in some minuscule, if not meaningful way, but I never get a response anymore, even with my persistence.
This peculiar silence leaves me with only memories and midnight hallucinations, leaving me to muse about your existence.
I would fantasize about what it would be like to hold you close and talk to you about whatever came to mind during the earliest hours before the sun started its somber ascension from its frigid slumber or in the darkest hours with the moon as our only companion while the stars portray a glorious love affair.
My moments of stupor used to be so vibrant that I almost got up the nerve to lean in a little closer, to grab your hand unexpectedly and reveal every admirable trait and every little detail that I adored in you.
Some nights, I still wish that I had been eager enough to chase after you instead of push you away with careful calligraphy.
Yes, I let you go.
Whenever our skin came into contact, whenever our pulses collided, it felt like electricity.
Every time I stared deep into your pupils, my mind would play a static polyphony.
If I could lose my nerve just crossing visual pathways, how would I have ever mustered up enough courage to then close my eyes and take a step closer?
How could I entrust my heart to you when it flees at the very thought of you?
Is it okay to be frightened like this? Is this what everyone calls falling in love?
Feeling deep love for somebody is like free falling from a plane into the ocean while blindfolded, except being uncertain if you’re near the shoreline or in the Pacific because those specifics were never given.
Nothing is sure.
I never embraced this leap of faith because I was sure that you wouldn’t be there after my descent.
Why would I risk everything on someone who may not even care as much as I knew I was ready to?
Would I be ready?
Maybe this isn’t the best time for us?
Oh, good, just another excuse.
I’m not sure of who I should blame for this stalemate.
Or this cold war?
Is this a deadlock or could I have been unaware of your spies, prying into my mind, stealing my sanity?
Maybe I’m the villain this time?
I haven’t been keeping count.
Can we reach a conclusion to this metaphysical conflict or was this truly over before it began?
Only time will tell.
I decided a long time ago that I would never rush to any conclusions, that I wouldn’t act on any impulse, and that random chance wouldn’t define my existence.
Except I have been waiting for a chance with you because you weren’t random, you felt more like something predestined.
But I never really took any opportunity because I wanted to see if you would wait for me.
I didn’t want to be to be wrong about someone who should be so right.
Yet I waited only to watch you slowly fall for this guy who came in suddenly.
I watched how he violently absconded with your pilfered heart.
You talk about it now with presumptuous vanity.
Your pretending will lead to an uncomfortable ending.
You don’t seem to realize that the longer this goes on, the less it’ll mean.
How many times can you say “I love you” until you grow weary of saying it?
Will it be until it loses its meaning to you or until everyone you tell that to decides to leave you regardless?
You give your love away like currency.
I was willing to look past everything you admitted to me.
I couldn’t care less about what has been done to you, what scars you have from when you were sad, what traumatic things that have taken place in your past or what horrible things loneliness has driven you to do.
What does hurt me is that you could reveal the depths of your heart to me and not care about the one who will remember every word you spoke in confidence.
If I made you feel open, and it was the same for me, then why would you question if I’m trustworthy?
If you could admit to me things that you’ve hidden in your heart, why would you never trust me with its entirety?
Is the only thing you fall for a good mystery?
When I was ready and waiting to catch you, you ran off with someone else who didn’t care about your past, only your present.
I was thinking about the future with you and he was thinking about that one instant he could catch you alone.
I wasn’t like your other friends.
We came together whenever we had the chance, even when it was only for an hour.
Every moment mattered when all we wanted to do is see each other.
We usually talked about whatever we could think of.
Silence was unfamiliar for us.
Maybe that was a mistake?
We could have used a moment to compose ourselves, to wonder about the reality of this encounter.
We never took enough pictures to remember like you did with the rest of your friends.
Maybe what led to the demise of us was the lack of visibility?
Was I your clandestine beloved?
I never really gave you an opening, did I?
I’ve given you countless chances, but you could’ve been as bad at reading signs and watching signals as I am.
We both offered our love just never simultaneously.
We never seemed to be in sync.
I’ve been memorably low in self-esteem at least in my recollection so it wouldn’t have taken much to impress me.
Just to have you available would’ve made me happy.
But alas, I recognize my greatest enemy.
Even after countless mishaps and missteps, we would still attempt at figuring each other out.
That is if you consider canceling because of the constant unforeseen or never planning for the lack of free time and energy and effort.
Sometimes I wonder if it was a mistake or providence that we didn’t end up together.
We could’ve been a beautiful disaster, flailing our arms and embracing helplessly.
We had so much in common, but I questioned all your intentions.
No matter how great of a friend you’ve been, at some point, I wondered if you thought of me as more than you would openly admit to.
I didn’t know if you were waiting, expecting me to ask the question your lips whispered in your daydreams or hoping I would gather all of your hints.
I would sometimes catch a flicker in your eyes, a gleam that dared me to hold my gaze a second longer while a foreboding would flood the abscess in my mind; a colorful heresy.
This silent arrangement gave way to full retreat as I dared not reveal my vulnerable heart.
I still can’t get you out of my head.
We never touched, at least not intimately like lovers do.
The only part I could say that you caressed was a part of my soul that felt that it needed you.
What is this, that my subconscious would be pitted against me in some conspiracy?
Why is it that I could feel so close to you, so at peace with you when so few words had been spoken between us?
Was it the most important words or the most important moments?
Whatever the case, I still relive those seconds with disinclination.
Why do I still think about you when you are so far gone, swept away in the arms of another?
I respect relationships, requiring myself to stay as far away from the romance of anyone I have ever had feelings for because I want them to be happy.
That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel the sting when I see them look at their love with the same fierce fascination I felt once from their eyes.
Because I never wanted to be the mirror that stared back at you, I blinked, moving away, independently.
I detached myself from your life so I wouldn’t ever have to stand close to the loss of my pride.
If you were in the same room, I didn’t approach you.
If you were in the same city, I didn’t message you.
I avoided every possibility of having to face you.
I told myself over and over it was because I was being brave, to give up the ones I have loved so that they could find happiness with someone of much more worth and value.
But I was a coward, in reality.
I was unwilling to face the possibility that I was wrong, that I loved you, that I might need you.
I now realize that I only wanted you more than I could bear.
I looked away because I felt like a meteoroid around you, burning up on my collision course into your atmosphere in accordance with my own orbit.
Please tell me if I am the only one here?
I’m not sure if you’ve felt somewhat distantly inclined to close the distance at times, but I have.
I’ve been afraid of admitting these things, but I’d be more than ashamed if I never talked about it.
If you’ve just been pretending on your end, you will have to find some way to get past all these walls we’ve made.
If not, then let’s just talk about it and get past this.
Because I’m tired of playing this game of cat-and-mouse, pulling petals off of daisies hoping it ends up the way I wish it to.
No matter what this whole process has been a therapy.
A mild sedative required for the coming days.
But for now, let us call this the end, for I cannot bear another minute of this hide-and-seek through paperwork.
Until we meet again thank you for the time spent wondering if I would ever find an end to this stream of consciousness.