7.21.14 Constant

Dear Friend,

It’s been a while since we’ve talked and it’s good to hear that not much has changed.

It’s nice to have a constant – a never-altering force that reminds us of stability and reliability. But as much as we can talk and pretend that we’re old friends, the truth is, we’re not. We never really knew each other from the start. The reason? There is no such thing as a constant. No being is capable of staying exactly the same from one moment to the next. We only know each other by memories and we assign attributes using the past. Having only the times of laughter and the times of hardship as reference, I try to piece together a picture of the person you are now, only for it to be distorted again the next time we meet. There is no better, there is no worse – just different. As it should be. We’ve grown. We’ve drifted. We’ve learned to define ourselves as individuals. And while I will never truly know your modus operandi, I do want to let you know that I am thankful to have met you and to have known you, even if it was only for an instant. You aren’t the same person I met so long ago, but I appreciate you nonetheless.

Tread on, my friend.

And as always… I hope you find what you’re looking for.

 

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5.31.14 Redemption

Forgiveness is not easily earned nor is it given without a price, but why is it that we like to hold on to our grudges? Why do we find comfort in the dark pleasure retribution affords us? We love the sin, we love missing the mark – like it gives us an excuse and we are entitled to anger, hate, revenge.

We often think about how we were wronged, but fewer times do we actually consider how we might have wronged them. It is not often black and white, not always a hero and a villain nor is it a battle between good and evil. They are victimized in their own thoughts, as are we, and just like us, they feel that they have the right to demand justice. It is more likely than not that both parties perceive that they had been the one slighted when it was really a scuffle risen from a simple misunderstanding. It is an impulse to defend our honor and our opinion as well as booster our wounded ego. Our flaws are in overlooking one another and then feeling belittled ourselves. The truth is, we are imperfect in ourselves and only when we are able to bridge the gap between our pride and our humanity can we be made whole again.

To be redeemed.

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3.31.14 Unopened Letter

It’s just sitting there. Unopened. Unsullied. Unread.

It could say anything- anything at all. It could contain words of encouragement or words of despair. It could be an attempt to reconnect or a means to sever. It could mark a beginning, or it could mean goodbye.

Whenever I get a highly anticipated message that arouses an emotional reaction, I just hold onto it and leave the seal unbroken. I explore the possibilities. What could it say? How should I react? What should I do? I’m already planning a response before I even know what it says.

That moment is filled with so much promise and unlocking its communiqué can destroy that innocence and result in heartbreak. At the same time, the longer I delay my urge to rip it open and devour its contents, the greater the disappointment is if the subject matter proves anti-climatic.

It’s a game that tries my patience against my idealistic nature. A staring contest with me boring my eyes into the envelope, trying to etch the best possible outcome onto the parchment.  The uncertainty is painful and often induces an unjustified reaction – blowing it completely out of proportion. How foolish I feel when I become fixated over the potential text and then realize that it was just your basic run-of-the-mill greeting card banality.

And yet, I still can’t seem to bring myself to open it. I want to savor the moment in which anything is possible and rejection is infeasible.  A point in time where my heart is simultaneously afloat and broken. A dilemma meant for Schrödinger and his cat.

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1.21.14 Poisoned Memories

Sometimes I wish we never happened. That our stories were never intertwined. That I was never even slightly involved in your happily ever after, and you never in mine.
It just doesn’t seem to be as pure anymore, like it’s been tainted somehow – at least in my mind. I don’t think you feel the same way. I don’t think you even remember anymore. Remember us? We were good together- even great at times.  I had never felt that way about anybody before.
The novelty excited me.

There were moments, fleeting as they might have been, but there nonetheless, that were full of promise and hinted at something more – something special, something extraordinary! But the world had other plans and everything worked out as they should. But somehow, something still lingers.

But be that as it may, this is my goodbye to you. I have walked down memory lane for the last time and although I may never completely obliterate you from my mind, I have closed this chapter and made peace with the matter. This is my closure.

Even if I’m left with these poisoned memories.

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12.21.13 Wanderer

It’s not a stamp in my passport or a ferry to an exotic foreign land, but it should suffice as a temporary cure for the wanderlust that plagues my vagrant heart. It might be spontaneous, crazy, and maybe even a little stupid, but it just can’t be helped. When I hear that siren song or feel the tremors in my soul, my feet start to itch and I am called to fly. Nomads and Bohemians understand that to resist this summons is to die, if not in body, in spirit. Life without adventure or exploration is like stale bread – it might still contain nourishment to sustain, but the flavor and pleasure are depleted. Am I being dramatic? Maybe. But if I must, I must and this I certainly must do or risk death by living a dull existence.

And I have no desire to tame this wanderer’s heart.

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10.19.13 Wasted Days

The innate sense of adventure that I have strangely diminishes when I lie in his bed.

I know that we can go on adventures together, yet I am still reluctant to touch my feet on the floor. It’s like I am at utter peace and contentment in my black tank top and his basketball shorts just lying in his arms, feeling like I have nothing else to do. At least, nothing worth doing more than going limp against his body, even though I know that’s not true. It’s almost as if I get exhausted by the idea of leaving this – our love nest. Is this what happens when you get comfortable? You are suddenly in this vortex of sleeping, eating, and cuddling? We go days, years, decades, and centuries together without moving from this plateau. It’s as if we are scared to leave because it could mean that this will be the last time we are together. The unrealistic realistic fear of never returning to this exact state of perfect bliss again. Because such is life.

So we linger. And we rot. And we waste. So that we can be together for as long as we possibly can. Just like this.

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9.2.13 Anger

I haven’t been this angry at somebody in such a long time. Anger. It’s such an unfamiliar feeling – a forgotten emotion until it boils up in you and you just want to scream at the source that had ignited it. It’s not just being mad, it’s a step further than that. It’s an intense fury that actually seems justified. A righteous indignation directed at someone who had wronged you. It’s a very human response to getting hurt. It is also important to note that anger is not hatred. Rather, it is the opposite. It is often an indication of how much this person affects you and how much you care. In fact, the most intensified form of this emotion is reserved for those who mean the most to you. Because you know that they are better than that and you had believed in them so undoubtedly. But they let you down.

It’s not a pleasant feeling. It’s just so ugly. And messy. For me, there’s often crying and yelling and the long road to any hope for a reconciliation. But we must barrel down that path or else risk losing more than just our temper.

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8.16.13 Another Year

another day, another year

another struggle we’re forced to bear

another season, another joy

another heartache, another boy

another memory far too gone

another era about to dawn

ever changing is this sea of life

but one must take it all in strife

heart full of hope and mind filled with dread

what choice do i have but to forge ahead?

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7.27.13 An Acquired Taste

“Relationship”

That word tastes so stale on my lips. Rolling it around on my tongue does not make it more appealing, rather it makes me want to spit it out even more. It’s not that I’m commitment-phobic or have intimacy issues. It’s not even that he couldn’t be the one. He’s amazing. It’s the label. The concept is so foreign to me now. Yes, I’ve been in them. And yes, they have been generally happy ones. But the title ‘girlfriend’ just seems so heavy now.  Maybe it’s the age group I’m in – early to mid twenties -that I’m just not ready to settle down and think about the house and kids. Is it so selfish that I still want to explore on my own and experience the things I would never do unless I do them now?

Now now now! What a childish thing to say, but I can’t help it. I’m not done with myself.  I’m not done growing and I’m certainly not done learning. Maybe once I’ve figured that part out, the word ‘Relationship’ will ripen and not only will I find myself seeking it out, but maybe I would even start to crave it.

I guess it’s an acquired taste.

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6.17.13 Defriended

It’s sad to think that your popularity is wavering based on a statistical decrease of your so-called friends on Facebook. But alas, recently, several of my ‘friends’ have gone through ritual purges of their friend following and it seems that I have not made the cut on a few. Some of them are understandable- acquaintances that I have seen maybe once or twice in real life, friends of ex-boyfriends, friends I never interact with, etc. And truth be told, I don’t blame them. The most activity my Facebook generates is the occasional Wall post to those I already talk to and the obnoxious Newsfeed spamware I contribute whenever there are photo vomits of the same vain pictures over and over again uploaded from different cameras. Hardly titillating. I’m not even a good enough Facebooker to write the obligatory “happy birthday” once a year. And so, my friend count drops.

It doesn’t really bother me and it’s not like Facebook notifies you of such depressing matters, so I usually go along oblivious to such things. Until someone significant defriends me. I wonder, why? What did I do? What did I not do? And then I mourn over the lost access I had previously taken for granted. It’s strange, I never took much weight into my number, but it saddens me to see that even a pretense of a friendship through a virtual device such as Facebook cannot be maintained or sustained. A Facebook friendship, which I have always considered the lowest, basest form of forged relationships, cannot be upheld. It’s just so final. When one gets defriended, that’s the end. It means that the defriender wants nothing to do with you and sees no point in holding even the veneer of a relation that could at least substantiate a courtesy call years later when favors for networking are called in.  I have enough pride not to re-request friends that have gone rogue, or chase down deserters and ask them what I could have possibly done to result in such an abrupt termination of our association. So, that’s it. All communication simply cut off. All connections severed. And all opportunities to make amends forfeit. And so, bridges remained burned, questions are left unanswered, and open-endings will forever lay without conclusions or closure.

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