Are you lost? Yeah, me too.

Gravity

 

The 12 year old fangirl in me was extremely pleased.

My first crush was Westlife’s Mark Feehily. Granted I was 10 and he was absolutely breathtaking with those azure eyes and rosebud lips

… That now enjoy suckling the mouth of other dudes.

The Gamble of Love.

With Adele’s Hiding My Heart Away echoing throughout the barely sunlit walls of my room, I shed my last few tears for the boy I fell head over heels for. Oh yes, we’re going there. Revisiting the memories I spent ages burying, memories I can never run away from.

About a year ago, I fell in love. I was 20, he was 22. Throughout the whole relationship, I saw him (and life in general) through rose tinted glasses. He was political, opinionated, affectionate and made me laugh harder than anyone could. And that’s saying something, I’m only laughing at my own jokes. We discussed the matters of paramount importance to minor trivialities. He knew what to say, during moments when I needed assurance. He held my hand through exams, through gossip laden ordeals, under the tables during dinner. Even after I came back for the summer break, we wrote letters. Signed off with ‘I miss yous’ at the end of each one. We skyped at 5 am in the morning, something I had to do hush-hush, result of staying in 3 bedroom apartment. I’ve never felt such exhilaration. I was in love. And I vowed to stay in love. 

That didn’t last. He stopped loving me back.

What circumstances caused him to drop everything and stare back at me with empty eyes will probably never be revealed to me. The reasons he gave were numerous. All which I still cannot wrapped my head around. 

I think you’re fake

You ignore me when we talk

3 months was too long

Whatever he said back then, it’s distant memory now.

I do remember this though, reeling from the break up was probably the single hardest thing I’ve done in my entire life. I went through hell and back. I could’ve flooded the house with the tears I cried. I would wake up in the middle of the night crying because of some heart-wrenching dream I had. I would well up in taxis when I see him in uni. Oh, and my personal favourite, crying listening to Taylor Swift’s Forever and Always.

That took the cake.

Yes, I’ve become those Notebook/A Walk to Remember girls I promised myself I’ll never stoop to. But that’s life isn’t it? You tend to become the one person you swore you’d never be. 

So… I’m never gonna be a Victoria’s Secret Angel. Fingers crossed, everyone.

But that’s all in the past now. Now, we can pass through the halls and just exchange weak smiles or sometimes, I just concentrate on one spot on the floor. Oh tiles, you’ve rescued me from so many awkward situations.

If I cry now, it’s only because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the uncertainty of love. Call me foolish, but even after a one time burn, I don’t know if I’m able to take that leap of faith again. I see it now, people will hurt you, break you, leave you in pieces only for you to be able to pick yourself back up, all because you let them.

But I don’t blame him because as Bonnie Raitt eloquently put it, I can’t make him love me if he doesn’t. But the fact is, I am damaged. And all because I let it. And that shouldn’t be. I should be the master of my fate, the captain of my soul. Not handing the power to some jackass I had the unfortunate chance to fall in love with.

But that’s just it isn’t it. Fall in love with the utmost passion and conviction, and you will taste the sweetest of satisfaction, however short the romance may be. Fall in love with caution, and you risk discontentment.

Cause that is what love is, tumultuous, temperamental but as attested by many, utterly fulfilling. 

Yeah, life is truly and thoroughly fucked up.

(I haven’t written in a while btw, sorry for the rustiness)