To say that we are two people who wanted different things, I think, is a lie. When we crossed paths and decided to get to know each other, that was shared interest. I was piqued by your uniqueness; perhaps you were just flattered by the attention but you decided to stay the while anyway.
And stay awhile, you did! We started talking and spending time together, amused at the differences and similarities we found in each other. It was good company, clean fun, and a love of good food that brought us together. So what brought us apart?
Perhaps I was wrong in the assumption that you wanted this. But I had every reason to believe that with all that’s been said and done. And although it is true,there was nothing wrong with either of us, you were wrong to assume that there was an us.
Here’s the truth: everything is a lie.
We tell ourselves everything has a meaning. But sometimes there really isn’t any purpose in our actions; things don’t always turn out as planned. We tell other people (and sometimes, ourselves too) we’re okay despite the eerie gnawing feeling that we’re not. We trivialize defeats and failures as stepping stones towards success — learning experiences as we’re often told — but sometimes all they ever do is add up and pull us down more than all the energy we could ever muster to stand back up. We comfort ourselves that as every day begins, it shall end at night too — but notwithstanding the chronic feeling of isolation and words and images that never seem to tire running through our feeble minds.
We fool ourselves that life is worth so much more despite the feeling that we’re just drifting along aimlessly. We search aimlessly for truths but we keep feeding ourselves lies. At what price does honesty come? What have we got to lose if we let go of lies?
“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “it doesn’t make sense to me. How could you choose to leave the person you say you love?”
And he sighed with a resounding breath that sounded like regret. “Things don’t always have to make sense. It’s not easy for me to do this..”
“Then why do you have to make it so hard?” I mumbled, trying my best to keep myself from crying. I swore to myself that I will not shed a single tear for you. I am too proud to cry in front of you; I will not let myself down.
It was easy to say that timing was off. But we both know that’s not the case. Relationships require work, but love makes all the effort worth the while. Time is irrelevant. I could have settled for: it just wasn’t meant to be. But I am a believer that we are masters of our own destiny. Choice. That was the thing. He is choosing to leave me, I am choosing to stay.
Why was it so hard to choose me? “Maybe it would make sense if I just say, I thought I love you.” he calmly said. “Or maybe you did.” I replied nonchalantly.
I bit my tongue so the tears that were forming in my eyes will hold still. And in that moment, I understood how the truth hurts, and how it sets you free.
Uncertainty is a reality that is difficult to accept for it is beyond our understanding. We waste time and energy when we pass up on certain opportunities; or when we wait out on things that may never come. Perhaps this is why promises are sometimes unfulfilled or why things don’t always turn out as planned. The thing is, we cannot always be in control of a situation, sometimes, even of ourselves.
So we must live with courage to accept defeats, to let go of losses, and to embrace the unknown with faith beyond reason. Things don’t always have a sensible explanation. Feelings exist because reason doesn’t always have the answers.
So let us brave the new frontier with a sprinkle of hope, a dash of faith, and a healthy dose of love. Have a peaceful and wonder-filled 2016!
As the year comes to a close, I have realized that life is a series of awesomeness and disasters that peak sporadically. But these things are more of the outliers than typical. What happens for the most part, are what seemingly looks mundane and ordinary little things that we often forget about. Looking back though, it is these little things that actually steer us into the direction we are headed to now. Although the spectacular sometimes jolts us to make pivotal turns, what keeps us going are the trivialities of the average days in our lives.
Even without paying much attention, I can see that I have drifted quite far from where I had been a couple of months back. Back when I thought that what was best was to stay put and not move an inch — much like that song by The Script. Those mundane and boring days have steered me off the path I thought I wanted.
So here I stand now and I don’t think I will want to look back. Poof!
Hofstadter’s law states that things always take longer than you expect, that even if you know it will overrun, it will overrun your estimated due time too. We are either too confident about our abilities or perhaps just optimistic about circumstances that things will get done in a shorter period of time. In time, we then commit the planning fallacy, the mistake we make when we “conveniently” forget that reality dictates that a task takes actually a longer period of time to be completed, factoring in other details that may affect its accomplishment. For example, I know for a fact that I find it easy to compose my thoughts and comprehend reading materials, so finishing my dissertation shouldn’t take that long a time. Unfortunately, the method by which I need to gather my data relies on the availability of other people, which, unfortunately is costing me more time an effort than I had imagined, thereby pushing my due date farther than what I planned it out to be.
If in even the most calculating task, such as programming, Hofstadter’s law seems to take effect, what more the complicated things such as finding your soulmate, or settling down and getting married? This is where the advice of most psychologists come in handy, regarding the planning fallacy, avoid planning altogether when possible and just deal with it. Shit happens all the time anyways, but Murphy’s law is another topic that requires a new post.
Let me go back —
to the time when I first met you;
not so young, not too naive;
but beguilingly charmed by the possibility
that one and one will not be two.
I will go back to that month and day,
like gravity pulling me into
the memory of a me and you.
Where once there was a sliver of a chance
that we will have the next dance.
And of course all the places
and most of the empty spaces
that once belonged to you shall have to be visited too!
So they will no longer have to be
associated to the recollection reminiscent of you nor me.
I shall go back to that familiar route that has led me to where I am now —
armed with an optimism
that I shall be done by tomorrow.
So that finally I can move towards
the path I was bound to take before there was you.