For about some time now, I've been having difficulty finding what I really have inside. Feelings either I can't understand or too chicken to face. I keep skipping some things I ought to feel, afraid I might get a tad less normal than I usually am. Sometimes I don't want to be different at all. I find this hard to comprehend simply because we human beings have this subconscious manifestation of being entirely unique from everyone else. Some even try hard to be different. Lo and behold. But I guess for about some time now, I just want to feel less than having what I really want to have. Or more. Humor me.
Am I making sense?
I want things to stay as I planned it to be. But. At the same time, I live in the idea that things turn out as random as fate laid it out. I don't want to muse on Time. And Fate. And Destiny. I'm just keeping things close to reality.
But Fate and Time and Destiny IS reality.
I'm afraid to lose. Lose--not as the opposite of victory. Lose--as the opposite of finding. Of keeping. I am afraid of losing what I long waited to find. Some things are hard to let go especially when you really had a good grasp of it. But I think that's what life's been teaching me this whole year. That I ought to give back what I ought to have found, to this circle of life, as we call it.
The lost of my spectacles. My phone failing to work properly. The health I've been relying on suddenly brings back a long gone enemy, asthma. A secret I've been keeping to no one but me, realizing it is nearing its end. The lost of my patience to things like these.
This is a hard time for me. For everyone who experiences the same thing.
I read a book telling how we all are like cathedrals. Built sometime when civilization is ripening. Being torn down and restored again for ages and ages. But at any cost is still there standing. Maybe the windows might have changed, or doors added, but nevertheless, still standing.
I believe we must be more like trees. Act on our own discretion to sprout new leaves as long as we remain rooted. We must have not the option to uproot ourselves and must be forced to go on living like the rest. Our ability of free will comes in when we are cut down, to decide whether to wither and die down, or, to continue life, sprouting new branches, giving shade to anyone who decides to stay with us. We can't stop things from cutting us down. They can mutilate as much as they want, but we can choose to go on living and remain standing, for another life. Or lives.
Although we know, we sometimes forget certain principles we believe in since forever. And as I ponder on things, I begin to remember those I have found and reminded myself that as much as I have lost, I too have found. And how could I have missed that?
The raise I've been wishing for. The opportunity to spear head on an event. Being on television (back off, this is my moment). Being on print. Having two tattoos before I turn twenty three. The trust I have given back to a friend. Friends keep coming. The courage to give someone another chance despite the cancerous pain I've been feeling. One magical moment enough to last me a life time of playback moments. The freedom I have found to choose, loving someone unconventional over what I have grown comfortable with. The bravery of willing myself to let go, over and over and over again.
I have found a different side of me. I am more than a dodecahedron.
I've been building gates all this time. I am still. I am afraid to lose someone (or some thing) I knew I always wanted. I've been constantly struggling to content myself with silent replies to my "I love you's", willing myself to go on with fighting. Loving never required will to me, it just simply came out naturally. This force I am most of the time fearful, because I know the bravery and courage and passion that will come with it. But at the same time, I am accepting. I decide to continue bathing myself with the over whelming feeling of this force, using it to power me every time I find myself playing back those time we had together. On the other hand, i just grace myself with time because I know at one point or another, everything will come to a halt. The masked phantom that will come during the night, snatching the feeling from my heart. "With me secretly awake, letting him take away the only thing that keeps me bounded to you." The only thing that glues me in between sanity and insanity. I'll let the phantom rob me of my Zahir.
And when I wake up tomorrow, I just know I had let go. I just know I will always have this chance of meeting you again, to rekindle whatever we had. But when the time comes when we must part, I will choose to live. I will choose to leave. For both of us. I learned that fate is a mixture of destiny and free will. It is a little bit of everything, weaved in front of us for every single moment we live. The relationship of the loom weaver and her tools, to come up with a single masterpiece of a lifetime.
I am beginning to find the things I ought to have found inside of me. I embrace it like a long lost friend.
Stop losing, instead, start giving. This is a way of life we must all begin to learn and accept. To give back a part of us in order to make room for something we will soon receive. To empty our cups in order for it to be filled. It is normal that every now and then we miss people and things and moments we had in our lives. Perhaps life would be kind to grace us with another chance to bring back these things to be a part of our lives, but nevertheless we must always keep in mind how fleeting things are. Perhaps love could change that. Perhaps not.
Love and life is an intertwined thread in this loom we have. It will be so hard to pull back individually, much more separate one from the other. They always work better together. And as we learn to keep things insanely spontaneous, we develop this one important belief in faith. It is more like a silver lining for tomorrow. In this case, we achieve a sense of balance over working for some thing we knew we always want, and a touch of faith to leave everything Up there, and the sense of excitement and learning of what will come of these all.
We ought to live and to love. And the moment we start loving will be the moment we start to see reality in things. The actual reality of the Now. When that time comes, Ago and Later will be null and void. The moment we start to love will be the moment we start to merge fairy tales with having anxiety attacks in between affairs, or when you find it hard to say "I love you" because of the many factors you think will get more complicated and is complicated enough, or when you want for the person to stop fighting for you because you will soon and eventually leave, or when you get all wet from the rain just to see each other, or when you wait for seven hours just to bring dinner, or wake up earlier just to buy lunch, or when you secretly die of missing, or when you have to cry silently just to keep everything okay for the small amount of time you spend together, or a moment when you wake up, just before dawn, finding your looking at the most precious eyes or lips or ears you ever saw, the most precious person in your life right now lying beside you clasping your arms, fingers snugly intertwined, feeling your breaths give and take for oxygen, feeling so close together, not just your warm bodies, but your hearts at most, and yet, a tear comes rolling down your temples, you try to comprehend an explanation, but you give up, and suddenly you realize something so obvious you tend to miss it, you realize you had to let go. Love is a deadly concoction of sweet tangy juice of dreams and bitter alcoholic vodka of reality. It is the marrying of perfection and imperfection. It is a composition of harshness and acceptance and soft whispers and sweet nothings and other illegible things we might find in this world. It is a mixture we all are willing to die for.
I agree with Audrey Niffeneger's thoughts. It is indeed better to be extremely happy, just for a short while, than to be just okay for the rest of your life.
"You're very brave."
"No, I'm not, I'm afraid. But I have no choice."
"But, now that you ask, there's my answer: I love you very much."
-Words from the book "The Zahir", by Paulo Coelho
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