Don't think about that guy

"Don't think about that guy!"

You shouted to me over your shoulder as you ran toward the bus stop, your bright red sweater flashing as you disappeared into the crowd.

I must have shouted something back at you although I can't remember what it was. Knowing me, it was probably a very weary but enthusiastic "OK!" The enthusiasm was for you - my best effort to appease optimists - but the weariness was for me and the inevitable catch-22 of bullshit infatuations: to get over someone, you find someone else. Don't think about that guy by thinking about another guy.

Not that I was looking for you. I always felt this strange ticking sensation deep within me whenever I'd run into you on campus. Like a tiny grandfather clock was sitting inside my chest, and whenever I'd see you, it would strike midnight. I still walk those same pathways where I used to glimpse you, and sometimes I expect to just see you striding toward me, headphones around your neck, a book in your face. Even though I know it's impossible, I think that part of me secretly hopes that I will see you walking, completely unaware that you're about to bump into me like you did that afternoon you told me not to think about "that guy." I guess it's for the better...because we all know what happens when twelve am rolls around. The little bird jumps out and yells "Cuckoo!"

I have been forced to live a stationary life since I was born, and the frustration of it all has finally polluted me. I think I've made up for the sedentary lifestyle that has throttled me throughout these years by finding romance in individuals who won't stay still. Maybe it's from the hope they can make me free like them, and I can fly away from this self-defeating cage of unattainable dreams. I'm always ready to leave, always ready to go somewhere, but the clock never strikes midnight when I'm alone.

"Don't think about that guy!" you shouted to me.

I never would have thought that you would later be "that guy." The guy that I would have to let go of, the guy I couldn't hold on to forever.

You're always ready to leave, always ready to go somewhere.

And sometimes, when I think about all of the memories we've made together, I still feel a pressing urgency to go chase you. But I know I never will. I found you without looking for you, and if I ever do find you again I don't want to hear the ticking of any clock.

Most of our love was clocks.

“Let’s still be friends, okay?”

“Let’s still be friends, okay?” this is the most common aftermath line when two lovers broke up. A promise of lasting friendship is simply a cover up for an uncomfortable situation, nothing more.

Maybe the line begins with very good intentions, but chances are, you end up with rotten results.

It’s so difficult to still keep in touch, and even if you do, you’d always be careful on the things you’re going to say.

If you say you’re doing great and feeling happy with the ways things are going, you may sound defensive, as if you are not affected.

If you say words of reminders or concern, you might sound as if you’re still in love with him.

If you tell him about your friends and your crushes you might sound like you want him to make jealous even if you don’t intend to, just to keep in touch…. right?

Sometimes we find ourselves smiling, reminiscing, and then later we’d end up crying. Why? A question that is quite hard to find an answer…

How can we convince ourselves to forget all about that guy when he’d done many nice things for us? We don’t have an idea what will happen next…but still, things kept on bothering our minds…

Do I still love him? Yes, in fact very much…but I doubt we’ll get back together again… Maybe all they can do for now is wait --- to wait for the right one…

Don’t even care how long.

Cause true love? That is worth waiting for…

Emancipation of the Heart

When you look for it, why can you not find it? When you stop looking, why does it find you? When you search for it, why do you do it in all the wrong places? When you give up, why do you run into it in the most unlikely of places?

When you let go, is it because you love too much or because you don't love enough? What brings more pain--loving or leaving? Is the realization that you no longer pine for anyone a liberating or lonely feeling?

When romantic relationships spark no interest, is it because you love yourself too much or because you love others too little? When you leave, should you feel dispirited? Or should you feel invigorated? When you are left behind, should you feel lost? Or should you feel emancipated?

When you stop loving, is it the end or the beginning?

When you cling to it, you lose it. When you avoid it, it tracks you down.

Defining it will confound you.

Coveting it will destroy you.

But if you can just let it be, it can be a gift that can be appreciated for what it is and all that it can bring you.

When you love no matter what, are you brave or are you mad? When you fall in love, are you blessed or are you cursed? When you refuse to fall out of love, are you determined or deranged? Does love inspire? Or does it drain?

When you are resolute, are you romantic or are you rabid?

Why do people say they love when they don't? And why do they say they don't when they do? Why is a declaration of love the hardest of statements to make when it is real? And the easiest to make when it is false?

Why can a child declare with certainty and without fear, that she is loved?

No matter how many times she has been berated? Because against conflicting words and actions, repeated denials and numerous contradictions, love shows itself when it is there. And even when no words are spoken, much is said.

Why do people love even when they are not loved back? Why do people love a little, love a lot, love deeply, love foolishly, love forever, love again? Why do people love at all? Does love empower? Or does it enfeeble?

Why do we see something in someone that others don't? Why do our hearts beat faster for one person against the rest? Why can we forgive someone for sins we cannot forgive others? Why do we love someone and not someone else?

As Pascal put it, "The heart has its reasons which reason cannot know."