Month: May 2017

I remember you once blaming me for no longer writing about you.

The truth is, I couldn’t bring myself to write about someone I no longer felt a thing for. There is an essence in my writing and language that comes from beyond my intellectual ability to comprehend and process words – an innate desire to express from the core of my heart. I don’t write for the pure sake of putting words down onto paper (or onto the computer monitor, if you will), I write to feed my soul – the very process of painstakingly regurgitating my guiltiest secret desires and my torrential flooding of sentiments into something physical, something organised and intelligible; something I can be proud to call my own.

I don’t want to throw my words freely into the air, meaningless and cheap nothings that contain no value of truth or sentiment. I hope you understand that for every piece of writing that I used to dedicate to you, I didn’t just give you my words; I gave you in that instant, all of my heart and soul. In that finite amount of time that I wrote, I wanted to give you an infinite amount of reasons to be convinced that you were in every way everything that completed me as a whole. 

Therefore, I beg of you – I implore you to not demand me to write about you. I will cease to function properly and my words will never reach you; they will not sound like me and in every single way insincere and likely misconstrued.

Yet, how ironic when I write to implore to not write about you, I am somehow, writing about you?

Last night, you slipped your way
into my head – while I was fast asleep;
tapping on my shoulder and hugging me
from behind like you actually meant it.

I don’t even talk to you very much,
much less barely do I know your name but
last night we didn’t have to talk at all
for you to completely steal my heart.

This morning, I slid my way into your messages;
my text but a mere pin in a haystack for your entertainment.
I saw you walk away and drive off, moving on with life
while I can’t detach myself from memories of last night.

Perhaps, I’d much rather meet you in my sleep, you
put your fingers on my lips – silencing me (and my fears), and
in a land of make believe, you are the only thing I want
to see, so tonight see you again I shall – far away in my dreams.

I will admit that you are quite a challenge to converse with, even more so to understand. I know that our characteristics and personalities are rather polar opposites, but I want to believe that there is something which can be done in order for this to work out.

I have to make the first move, as always, because if I don’t then everything will stagnate and eventually break off. Yet, I don’t want to come off as oppressive and dominant – stifling if you will, as per what I was told the last time I tried to make the first move out of good will. I’m constantly reminded of feedback I was given in the past, and how shockingly similar my situation is now as compared to then – but a lot more extreme on the scale. I want to know where is the fine line between being caring and condescension, between trying to strike a conversation and personal space invasion, as well as between giving a healthy dose of personal space as compared to neglecting the person. Teach me, because I really don’t know – but I am willing to learn.

Some days, I feel really special and appreciated but some other days I feel forgotten and unwanted. There seems to be an invisible switch in your mind that controls your desire for social interaction, some days you take in a healthy dose but others you seemingly want none at all. Yet, this has only started happening in recent times, so I really question if there’s something I have done wrong.

I am trying to read between the lines, catching the little unspoken hints packed behind your physical actions and words. Your social media is a gateway to find out on the things you enjoy and dislike, but I think nothing speaks louder than your gift for silence. Indeed, I think you say it best when you say nothing at all. Sadly, I don’t always comprehend the language of your silence – maybe eventually I will, maybe I won’t.

Simultaneously, I want to be more patient and forgiving with myself. I have been trying very hard, as diligently and determinedly as possible in making myself a more reasonable and approachable individual. I have been actively trying to improve myself as a better listener, a better friend, a better interlocutor. I do all of these regular self reflections because I genuinely want to be a better person in every way that contributes to the betterment of society, but I understand that mistakes and slips are inevitable, and should they be unavoidable, I want to accept my own mistakes without any grudges.

You indirectly teach me to constantly reflect on myself with clarity, to not be assuming, and to give the benefit of doubt. I still don’t completely understand you, I don’t expect to, but you teach me things I’ve never found out about myself. When you speak, your minimal words create a profound impact on me and I learn so much through a different perspective coming from someone with a near opposite personality.

Yet when you stay silent, I’m still learning even when you say nothing at all.