For you
I have been putting off writing this letter for the last 2 months because I am afraid
Being busy working 11-12 hours a day certainly does keep me from not being able to write to you sooner, but I don’t think that’s a good enough excuse because I really do think you deserve more. You have helped me through dark times whether you noticed it or not. The true is that I am afraid. I am afraid of not being able to write a good enough story for this relationship. So I wait, unsure if being confused and left in the dark will put me in the best spot to write a good story. It will all be like a jumble of words, losing their connections, not having anywhere to go, and then sinking back into the floor of the ocean after desperately trying to keep themselves afloat.
I have always hate forgetting. It’s part of being human so there’s nothing I can do. Forgetting can be a gift if you decide to look at it that way. When I forget, my mind gets clearer, and things I used to think were big seem less important in hindsight. Small fragments of memories fade away like fireflies, and you can only watch and admire their beauty before letting them go. The past feels like someone else’s life. It all seems so distant and unreal.
I want to write a story for you that captures the feeling of being with you without getting bogged down in all the specifics. I want a story where I am able to look at my past objectively without getting caught up in my emotions but not too far from the past so that everything is too muddy, and my mind starts to play tricks on me. The above reasons is why I think this is the right time to write to you this letter.
People watching films always expect a grand ending
In reality, sometimes the ending can just be a normal, insignificant day or moment, like a last goodbye or a last smile. Looking back, there’s only one question in my mind: did we hold hands or kiss the last time we met? After a while, I have to let that question go because I know you won’t answer. I just get used to the fact that I don’t have you by my side anymore. But even so, every now and then, I would feel a stab of loneliness. Every road that I travel, I subconsciously call out to you, advertising what interesting things I see and how we used to travel to this area and hang out. It’s a mundane relationship with not much to share.
Being mundane isn’t bad.
Our relationship has given me more than any relationship I had in the past. Being mundane is good; it means nothing bad happened, time just moves. You are just living in the moment. That’s what I love about our relationship; you gave me peace. Being with you keeps me sane both internally and externally, somehow. The day we stop talking, my helmet straps fall off. It’s the helmet you had been wearing for a year before. I see it as an attribute toward you. Not having you in my back seat, the helmet finds that it has now fulfilled its purpose. I got my own helmet already. I only need one. So I just kept driving for half a month with a broken helmet and accepting being seen a little idiotic whenever anyone asks me why I haven’t done anything about it. I wanted to feel you close for a while at least.
It took me a month to buy a new helmet. Time to move on, I guess, like the name of the blog. There are so many memories, but there are only a limited number of frames. I love you, but I don’t think this can be explained in any traditional sense. I don’t think we can be together. Because I don’t want peace. I don’t want things to stay the same. For me, you are like water, and I am a smoldering piece of wood. I am afraid of being burnt. It hurts being burnt, but it feels alive. After all, being a piece of wood, I can never turn back into a tree again. Then, at least I can provide warmth, I have a purpose. I don’t want to be a piece of wood lying around, collecting dust, and getting rotten slowly, hollowing out. I already feel empty enough inside so I don’t think that would be a great experience. But you, you keep me from burning. You make me feel that it’s okay to not be burnt. A gentle stroke of water extinguishes the fire, keeping me away from being hurt.
Between us, I don’t think there has been much of an agreement on how to function in a relationship.
I want you to be more active and spend less time wondering to yourself about every what-if. If I don’t contact you on some day, and you feel unhappy about it, you could just contact me. A simple message could be nice. If I say something that you may not like, do tell me, instead of keeping it to yourself. And you always want me to stop burning and hurting myself in the process and try to make me forget the fire that lit me up in the first place, thousands of km away. We both fail miserably at our own objectives. Heck, I can’t even get a normal goodbye, just dead silence, I still feels shit about that. I love your smile, and I still do. It pains me a little bit when you see me in the schoolyard, and I can’t see the same smile greets me back. I am not really sure I am worthy to be called your lover. The day you said you love me in that cold winter, I was confused. I didn’t know how to process that emotion, and I still don’t know what should I have done till this day. But if one day, you want to meet me again, or maybe being a little crazy sometimes, want me to be your lover for a week, just let me know. I would love to keep in contact with you. Our relationship certainly won’t be the same as in the past, but it doesn’t meant that it will be worse. It will be different because by then, we will both be different. Whatever the reality is, I would like to occasionally be a part of your life, seeing how you are doing, cheering on your journey. Because at the end of the day, you are already of a part of me.