Archive for August 2012


Saturday, August 25, 2012 Comments Off

We could have been strangers, storing each other faces into our minds and labeling them as "faceless nameless stranger", in which we put the data on how we looked that day (maybe when you wore that black hoodie over blue washed button-downs and maybe when I wore that maroon cape that I purchased the day before we met) even though somehow and sometimes we could even confuse each other's clothes with other strangers that we do not know, we could become another stranger that we eventually forget the very existence of each other. We could have forgotten each other's eyes, that sparkle of golden dust in your irises and the golden sphere in one of my irises. We could have not remembered the way each other breathes, how you usually took large gulps of air and how I usually took my short breaths. I could have forgotten how I look in your black hoodie, you could have forgotten the fact that my umbrella saved us from the sudden bad weather. I could have forgotten those blue veins that made the shape of the trees on your veins, I could have forgotten how they feel underneath my fingertips and you could have forgotten the feel of my fingertips grazing your one and only tattoo. We could have categorized each other as "stranger I've met once under the sunny sky".

However we are not strangers. Fate chose to meet us up in that Chinese restaurant when both of us had to share a table because there weren't any tables left. Fate chose us to like the same food and made us order the same food and the same drink. Steamed chicken over fried rice and chinese tea. We laughed and talked, and then ordered another pot of chinese tea because we talked about anything and everything that day like we've known each other for years and years. They kicked us out because we stayed for too long. We laughed again.

And for the next three weeks, we went on the same routine. Talked over food, but occasionally we met up to watch some movies (mostly action and science fiction, we both hated typical romantic comedy movies) and we dined afterwards at the nearby restaurant. Often Chinese restaurants, but not always.

We made up stories and timelines if we remained strangers and did not meet each other. In one case I would still be that grumpy lonely girl and you would still be that happy-go-lucky guy. And in other case, we would meet each other again in a bookstore because we argued about a same book.  But, we also laughed about the fact that both of us were insane for thinking that there were other timelines and reality. We acknowledged the fact that, if we have not met, we would still think that other people were luckier than us or they did not fight hard battles everyday; we taught each other that we sometimes neglected the fact that other people were humans and they fought wars, either inside their heads or real physical fights. We taught each other about lives that we knew.

And then you left.


They Exist

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As it turned out, fairy tales aren't urban legends.
Fairy tales do exist.

Even though it is fleeting and short-lived, like colorful exotic butterflies flying in the sky of a humid paradise. And sometimes, it is better that way, because nobody writes a fairy tale that does not end, either with tragic or happy ending. For what its worth my fairy tale was pretty much ended in a good way. It ended where and when it should be, even though I would often wonder what could have happened if I stayed longer or if he started earlier, but, then again, I think about fate, because everything falls to their own places and if I mess with them, if I change the timeline, I wouldn't have the same memories, the magic and the moments wouldn't be the same. I wouldn't have gone to Cambridge, I wouldn't have taken a walk in the park, I wouldn't have bought my eau de toilette, I wouldn't have watched the movies; I wouldn't have been the same person as I am today, I wouldn't have been me.

Memories were made because the timings were right, because they all fell to their own respective places and corresponded rhythmically, to produce a chapter in my life that is incredibly exquisite and irreplaceable. I believe that everyone has their own special parts in your life, either they came to build you, to break you, or in rare cases, both-- and they all had their own times, maybe his time in my life is done and my time in his life is done, we don't need to carry extra baggage in ourselves if we ended up in a bad term with each other, the fairy tale ended in the right time.

Having said that, everyone is different, because they have to be somewhere on the right time to do the exact purpose that caused by their own selves. I know it is a widely acknowledge fact, but, for me, their importance are like those of food. On my seemingly endless trip, I met couple of people that I could relay on to. The first person was, B. B was like an expensive dark chocolate. Alluring, mysterious, high class. An enigma, basically. He was the kind of person that you had to fight for or trade something before you could get him. Another person was S. He was like water, you needed him everyday. He was an anchor. You ignored his presence from time to time, but, from some experiences and mistakes, you knew that he was important, that he was the key. Some others were like vegetables you didn’t like, they tasted bad, but they were good for you, because they build you up.

I've found out that I don't love you, maybe a mild obsession in addition to my lonely existence could add up into something that clouded up my mind, but, I know it is not love, because my definition of love is when you don't have to think about your own feeling, when you don't have anything in your mind and when you just let go completely and absolutely trust him to take the wheel and drive you to anywhere or even nowhere. My definition of love is not as simple as being with you all the time, but it is more like the exchange of our minds, our ideas, our thoughts, fears and dreams, hopes and nightmares and clinging to each other. I came to understand that...

Love is different for everyone. For one person, love is another form of obsession; you love someone in a way that you want to know everything that has been happening to that person, you’d feel bad, or even sad, when they do not respond you. For the other, love is a mere myth, something that never happened, something that you see everyday but never felt before. And for another person, love is as simple as missing that other person when they are not next to you; missing their hugs, kisses and missing their laughs. Therefore, we can conclude this point by saying,  everyone is loved. Maybe not in the way that you wish they would, but in their own ways. Maybe you need to be loved in a way like Romeo loved Juliet, an obsessed and full of passion. But also, you need to be loved the way an old couple love each other, willingly, trustfully and still going strong for many many decades.

And I need that old couple love. I know it's still a long way to go, but I have my own share of youth. And I know,
fairy tales do exist.
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