Do You Love Him?

We see each other over coffee... usual catching up between friends... and you asked:

"How are you two?"

I smile and say, "He's different from you."

You shoot me a raised brow. "How so?" You ask.

"With you everything felt better... 

The mornings were better,

The coffee was better,

The food was better,

Walks were better,

Chismis was better (haha)

You were like icing on top of a good/bad day, technically nullifying a bad day (haha)

The convos were great

The quiet was welcome

The love songs made sense

And your absence echoes

My mind was stuck on you

Like, when i was away, i wondered how you were doing... did you make new friends, is someone being your night cap, do you have someone to have lunches with?

When i get hurt coz of you... the sting is really bad.

I miss you when i can't see or hear you... it felt empty...

With him...

Yes, the conversations are easy, fun actually

Liking him did not feel like having butterflies in the stomach... it just happened, like it just slid itself in between me and him and said 'hey, you like him now'

Food was food

Coffee was coffee

Love songs were love songs... they did not mean anything...

Yes, his touches give me a high... but he's the first to touch me like that in 32 years of existence, so i guess it is to be expected.

But how come when i hugged you for the briefest moment, it felt so -- safe? He did hug me... i felt giddy... but... nothing else.

When he's away... my mind doesn't wander too much... 

I think it is only my body that wants him (haha)

I crave the attention he gives and the desire for me he doesn't bother hiding

...

Just that.

I guess you can say, loving you made made me full 

With him... i can't even say it's love.

When i told myself i loved you, it felt real.

When i asked myself if i love him... nothing. 

So i don't love him... not yet."

You nod. "I hope it works out eventually."

"Same."

A letter

I entered a letter writing contest last Valentine's Day. There could only be one winner from the whole lot, yet I wasn't expecting the letter I wrote for an unrequited love to get third place. 

Here it is...
 

Dear _______,

They said, “When you fall in love you should keep a part of yourself safe should the feelings wither.” What they didn’t tell me was that before one even knows they have fallen in love, bits and pieces of themselves change with every meeting or conversation. It might come to a point they would think there’s nothing of their original selves left.

And that’s just what happened with me.

Honestly, before you came along, the future seemed less complicated. I thought I figured everything out, that I could handle anything… but when you came into my life, you pointed out what I was missing.

Flexibility. The world is filled with countless possibilities that any minute detail can potentially throw me off track. Usually, I would take it as a signal that the journey has ended and I should move on to other things. You taught me that should it go there, it doesn’t necessarily mean the journey has ended. “Another option has opened up. Take it as a side dish to your adventure.” was what you would say.

Trust. Emotionally, it may seem I have control, but deep inside it’s torrential and I have no idea where it should go. I didn’t know what I was keeping inside was eating me from within until you came up and listened. And I felt different. I felt better. I then knew what I had to change and what I had to let go.

Vulnerable. It seems like deep inside me a screw came loose and it was never how it used to be. I began to open up more, and in the process I felt more. It’s through exposing myself that I fell for you.

You broke me, like they said they would. Yet, if it weren’t for you, I would have remained broken. The shell I was in kept the pieces together, but it didn't really fix anything.  I wasn't whole... just pieces that don't really fit.

Then you came and... made sense of it all.

Now that you’re not close by, with your own life to lead, it annoys me that I end up looking for you in places I know you wouldn’t be. It annoys me that I want to tell you what happened today, be it a high or a low. It annoys me to need your reassurance whenever I’m in a bind.

This yearning for you is a feeling I would have preferred living without, but should I be given the option to start all over again, I would still choose to meet you.

 

Love,

A

My Wisps 11

My heart still beats for you,
my soul still yearns for you,
my ears and eyes, oh how they wish
would never come to forget
a single detail of you.
My skin misses your warmth,
the feel of your hair
on my fingertips.

I miss you, terribly.
But I can neither
bring myself
to say it,
nor ask my mouth
to even utter your name.

Things left unsaid

Remember that time you asked me why I liked you?
I never gave you an answer now didn't I?
Perhaps I would never answer that question in person... in a cafe, with a cup of coffee stained by my lips on the brim.

Why didn't I answer? 
All the more, why couldn't I?
I guess the emotions still float on the surface, and reminding myself what it was that drew me to you would sink it deeper.
(Something you have shrewdly presumed to be the case, which I hastily, too hastily, and tactlessly denied.)

Why did I like you?

Was it because of the way you started a sentence or how you ended it? 
Was it because of the way your eyes twinkle and how they become warm or the way they turn blank and hazy?
Was it because of your inquisitive or nosy prodding?
Was it because of your sincerity or your sarcasm?
Was it because of your humor or unabashed bluntness?
Was it because of your wisdom or idiocy?
Was it because of your affection or insensitive teasing and mocking?
Was it because of your passion or your apparent lack thereof and utter laziness?
Was it because you cared or sometimes questionably do?
Was it because of your expressiveness or passivity?
Was it because of your openness or because you were cloaked in mystery?
Was it because of your honesty or lack of reserve?

In all these, what could I have possibly adored and admired in you?

I didn't want to tell you for you usually make fun of me when I tell you how I feel, despite you telling me it is all right to feel and that I shouldn't be ashamed of it. Hypocrite.
Still, I would want you to know what it was that sparked the attraction.

Just not in person.

I just can't say it matter-of-factly when each word spoken intimately entwines with the love I have felt for you then.
I would completely lose myself and drown, knowing full well you would never save me. 

Graduation Special

"Do you miss them?" 

A year has passed since the day they graduated and parted ways. Them venturing new heights, finding new interests, meeting other people -- a journey of finding oneself. She was not very good at voicing out what she felt. The act of doing so was difficult for her but it seems to be the best way of relieving herself of the gnawing ache. "I miss them... I really do." It felt good saying it.

"Do you miss... him?"

And before she could stop herself, with having felt such elation, she replied, "More than I ever thought I would." 

Guidance Interviews

I was asked during my yearly guidance interview: Why do you not tell someone how you feel?

What I had in mind was: There are just some people who tell you to talk, and once you do and get the hang of it, eventually grow tired of listening and ignore you and then switch to other people who can provide them with something 'better'. I wouldn't want to find myself in that position. It's like they tell you they got a hold of you, you trust that they wouldn't let go but they eventually do because they got 'tired' and not because they can't hold on anymore. There's a difference. The latter says they can't, the former just drops you.

What I said: I just don't feel like talking. I wouldn't want to trouble them.

Bewitched

"Tell me about her."

"Why?"

"Please?"

He knew I wouldn't leave until he told me. He bowed his head in resignation and sighed. "... if you insist..."

He stood and walked to the window, his back towards me. "She was like the summer sun. Her laughter like the cool rippling pools of an oasis in the desert. Her lips were like cherries in spring. Her cheeks a rosy pink like of a newborn. And her eyes..." My breath got caught in my throat as he looked at me, memories of 'her' danced in his eyes. He was drifting away.

"Wh-Why didn't it work out?" I asked, breaking the trance.

"Such is with things that are not meant to be, I believe. But I loved her, that's all I know, and I was content with just that."