that 4-letter word
Below is something which I wrote 2 nights ago. Bear in mind that I am never truly sane the moment the sun disappears beneath the horizon and the moon shines its illuminating light upon the earth. And sanity, in my dictionary, means 'becoming like everybody else and putting on a smile throughout the day'...or something like that. It's a huge paragraph because that's how I wrote it. It's about someone I used to be with, if we ever were really together. Memories...yes, maybe you can call him memories. I don't know. Here's that huge paragraph:-
Love...the one thing in this world which we all think we understand somehow, but at the same time, it makes us question its very existence. But I know Love...it is my good friend whom I haven't been seeing much of lately, but I know it's here because feel it running through my veins. It's what I breathe and it keeps me alive. It's not about holding hands and kissing anymore. It's not about exchanging sweet nothings, or long cuddles in the middle of the night. It's not about seeing him and talking to him everyday on the phone, or wearing each other's names around our necks. I no longer feel his touch on my skin or his warm embrace against my body. I no longer receive calls from him, where we would talk endlessly until one of us falls asleep and there's silence but we know we're both still there. No...I no longer have these, but I still have Love. Because it's not about what you see, but what you don't. Love is about pulling myself away because I know he needs the space - that space without me. Love is about smiling at him everytime I see him, knowing that he smiles at everybody else too, but would still appreciate one from me. Love is about treating him like a friend, because that's how he wants us to be - just friends. Love is about not expecting him to give his heart or time or life in return...because when you truly love someone, it doesn't matter what you can or cannot get from him...it's about what you can give him, to make him happy. And all I ever wanted was for him to be happy. So I hide these feelings that I still have for him, bury them deep and never expecting them to resurface. It's ok. And it took me quite a long time to get myself to this stage; to be able to accept the truth. I haven't 'moved on', because the truth is, many of us don't really 'move on' from heartbreak. But it changes us. And it changed me. This may not be the 'real' me, but this is still me. I still cry when I'm alone, just that nobody knows. Nobody really needs to know.
Love...the one thing in this world which we all think we understand somehow, but at the same time, it makes us question its very existence. But I know Love...it is my good friend whom I haven't been seeing much of lately, but I know it's here because feel it running through my veins. It's what I breathe and it keeps me alive. It's not about holding hands and kissing anymore. It's not about exchanging sweet nothings, or long cuddles in the middle of the night. It's not about seeing him and talking to him everyday on the phone, or wearing each other's names around our necks. I no longer feel his touch on my skin or his warm embrace against my body. I no longer receive calls from him, where we would talk endlessly until one of us falls asleep and there's silence but we know we're both still there. No...I no longer have these, but I still have Love. Because it's not about what you see, but what you don't. Love is about pulling myself away because I know he needs the space - that space without me. Love is about smiling at him everytime I see him, knowing that he smiles at everybody else too, but would still appreciate one from me. Love is about treating him like a friend, because that's how he wants us to be - just friends. Love is about not expecting him to give his heart or time or life in return...because when you truly love someone, it doesn't matter what you can or cannot get from him...it's about what you can give him, to make him happy. And all I ever wanted was for him to be happy. So I hide these feelings that I still have for him, bury them deep and never expecting them to resurface. It's ok. And it took me quite a long time to get myself to this stage; to be able to accept the truth. I haven't 'moved on', because the truth is, many of us don't really 'move on' from heartbreak. But it changes us. And it changed me. This may not be the 'real' me, but this is still me. I still cry when I'm alone, just that nobody knows. Nobody really needs to know.
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