I never have been the smartest in love, neither in loving.
I’m not even sure if I ever feel what it is like.
After days and days growling in self-reflection, I remember I did once.
We most of the time drowned by two things; thoughts and possibilities.
At some point we do realize we have the chance, the possibility to be loved and to loving, but we always think how are we going to do to deserve it, looking to the deepest side that none of them transparently would see it through.
You would think you’re the villain but time has always been the only one.
I might think that what I did was the best at the time but as I’ve grown up I know I could’ve done something better, wiser, the right thing. The trickiest part is, the moment we comprehend it, there is nothing we can do.
If only I knew to accept love is way easier than to let go, I would’ve appreciate it more. At the very least, I had the time to — At the very end, I have lost my momentum.
Questions has been circled in my head; Did I ever love him? I’ve been battling with myself just to find the answer. You’re right, it doesn’t have to be this complicated, it shouldn’t, but it is complicated. It is difficult to be aware of our own’s feelings, to define it, to admit it. We might even be surprised we have the capability to love after we have seen ourselves broken into pieces. But that is what humans do, we feel. Until now, I still don’t know for sure either it is a gift or a curse, or both perhaps.
I remember that one quote from the movie Flipped, Bryce’s Grandfather said “Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss, but every once in a while you find someone who’s iridescent, and once you do, nothing will ever compare.” I would say that he was one of a kind. I could not define him in just one color like I define anybody else. There is a slight blue-greyish whenever he looked at me but also light warm golden; I conspired that it was the reflection of street lights but still. I could see the burning red on his shoulder but also dark beige painted on his words.
In the world full of colors like that, we always have someone that is just different; easy to remember, almost impossible to forget.
As the silence has always in between, sometimes I feel that we did not know each other yet I was mistaken. Silence don’t kill romance. It embraces it.
In silence, we understand each other.
In silence, we see.
But in silence, a lot of times there is confusion.
There is a fine blurry line.
There is no definition.
There is nothing.
Yet, we still have affection for each other in silence.
When the time of the mere peacefullness has ended, we might want to speak louder. I might want something to stand for. I have realized that I have so much to say back then but I was too afraid to ruin the stillness. He, I assumed have spoken a lot that he could have, but I was too be in my serenity or what I thought it was.
As what expected, no matter how calm the waves are, no matter how exciting the mystery is, words are still the most beautiful thing that we could create. As the waves are getting stronger, our love are weaken. We needed sayings, we wanted silly cliche poems, but we never talked about it. It’s funny that we would die for each other in secret but never had the courage to say anything.
I thought I was protecting myself from destruction but I ended up killing the thing that I need, I deserve the most.
When I killed the love, I also killed a soul.
We died in a tragedy.
A tragedy that could’ve been the greatest love story.
A tragedy that would’ve been the most beautiful memories.
A tragedy that I should’ve had. We should’ve had.
I thought I will stop loving him. But it is deeper than i felt. Now all I want is seeing a sweet little line on his face widen.
Now I know what it means to love. The greatest thing that will be done in the name of love is not silence, neither mystery, not even the moment when I lost him. Loving is when I still have the affection I had after losing him, when his happiness is all I ever wanted, and finally, when I let him go.
Though we might not be lovers, we can always be a listener to each other.
Though we might not be lovers, we can always be friends… I guess.
But do you think we are, in different universe?
To forget is to be hopeless.
But to remember is always.
