A Letter to Stranger

Monday, February 29, 2016 Comments Off

Dear Almost Love,

How have you been? It has been too long since we have discussed with each other about the things that we fear the most about growing up. I've now realised that we are both grown ups now. It is not exactly the way I had imagined back when we were talking about this over a huge cup of ice cream. I almost did gain my imagined future, but I tossed it away for a promise of a better future. Though, to be completely honest, I really wish that the better future comes along faster, but not everyone is as lucky as you.

Through this letter, I would like to let you know about what has been happening in my life lately, since we haven't properly communicated with each other in a while—and apparently we have both of us to blame for not showing any effort to stay in touch. But, maybe we really have to let each other go, or perhaps I posed it wrong, we already had let each other go. In a sense, when we were still holding on to each other: we were in this glorious bliss of a neutral zone. Where everything stayed where they were with untouched boundary. I really had thought so. But the last few years I had come into a realisation that we were actually dancing pretty close to the boundary, even our close proximity was visible to the eyes of the unobservant.

The feeling that I miss the most about our closeness is the intimacy. Regardless whether intimacy actually existed or not, but it truly is what I miss the most. Every time I seek for a relationship with someone else, especially with another gender, I always try to find the same intimacy that I found in whatever it was that we had. It was a big portion of my adolescence. And do you know what comes with intimacy? Inside jokes.

Inside jokes are the best, no? You get to share this tiny little bubble of space that only exists between the two of you, and one of you holds the key, while the other holds the lock. Honestly, I miss every part of it. I miss being inside a small knit that I called "you and I."

But inside jokes are cruel, too. It gives me more expectations about something that could never be, like "you and I" for example. It makes me think of something that was more than what it was, it now feels like I should have got something more than any of this. It makes me feel like I should have something more than years of radio silence and static tv.

I'm writing this just to let you know with my situation currently, I feel cheated. From the Universe itself. You see, there is this potential that I have been eyeing for the past week; an impossible potential, I might add. The Universe has shown me that, this sacred potential only I could precept since none of these people has given him a great big deal of interest, he is an interestingly impossible potential. Even though, I admit, that he is an impossible potential, but at a certain degree I feel cheated because, at first, he has shown me this unmindful interest, with his own nonchalant way. Then, he went cold, a disinterested kind of cold. The most unnerving part of this is that I know that he is impossible, but I still want him to know that I'm interested. Even though, as you've known before, I've never been the person that people are interested in before. So, maybe my ego is bruised, or my hope shattered, or my happiness ruined.

But all I know about romance is that it can never be mine. It's close enough, but not enough to grasp, only for me to believe that it exists. Though, not for me.

Yours truly.
The one that could have grown old with you

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