Other people

It has come to my attention that the moments that I needed other people to be there had been more frequent as of late. However, it also seems that the very people that I wanted to be there isn't just there. And, more alarmingly, it seems that their absence will become more or less permanent.

I have developed quite a phobia from people walking away, leaving an empty life full of half-forgotten memories. I've been through a lot of those that I think that part of the reason that I have just made up a wall of rationalization and smugness. That people come, that people may stay, that people may go. That I have been comfortable with any group of people just because I'm thankful for the warmth that dispels the coldness of solitude.

"It might be conceded to mathematicians that four is twice two, but I can say that two is not twice one. It is one thousand times one."

-The man who was Tuesday, paraphrased.

I must admit that there are few people that are very close to me, however that has been a bit on the rocks lately (read: hidden desires and barely-masked demands). I want to rekindle the circles that I left, but it is a bit awkward to make past and present collide, inasmuch as you keep friends apart: one will see another side of you that you are keen of hiding to the other person because said friends will think a lot differently (and most of the time, less) of you.

Painful, to say the least.

The yearning to start over has been there a couple of times, but I know I cannot undo bad endings, I can only use them to create better beginnings. And for that, I asked to courage to be who I am, who I need to be, without pain made inutile of the countless masks that we wear.

On Exes

It's really a strange set of people to interact with, exes. Like one of my HS friends said, even if the ugly has faded into the background and your regard each other as friends, there is always that something when you're in each other's company. A shadow of the flame. Or a vestige of what one was. Or that lilting feeling when you traipse around shared times, places and experiences.

I've always kept some form of communication with past loves, striving to recover the friendship that would be inevitably tarnished after a breakup (So far, I've been moderately successful). But this most recent meetup with the most recent ex was a bit jarring. What was supposed to be a request for a companion evolved into a day-long date of sorts. The pain that it exudes is quite exquisite: mix the pang of isolation with the joy of familiarity, sprinkled with affection and with a generously helping of treks down memory lane. To see a friend, turned into a lover, but not quite yet reverted back to a friend.

I know that this feeling that I have is not exactly romantic love, not is it platonic. This is the sum total of all that has happened between us, of something special that has been let go but remains with us still. And I have to admit that what we had was special, though I never wanted to partake of it again.

I must recognize this fact, and learn from it, and to keep what can be kept.

Broken Inertia

Well, isn't it curious how everything just seems to conclude pretty much at the same time? Or that when a card falls off your hand, your entire game is so screwed up you wish there would be a total reshuffle? Or that card, having been removed in a Patience game, was the key blockade to stack up all the suits and make them jump off in your desktop?

I know this sounds like its coming from a schizo's dream journal, but then haven't you thought that maybe your "life" is the dream? A small respite from a butterfly's dance between the wind and the earth?

To have left a world that you have already adapted to and accepted, and thrust back to a realm you neglected.
To hold the ruins of the strongest link you had, only to find yourself hanging from a thread that you thought has already snapped.
To let go for the good, but hopefully not for good.
To see the static world, treasured for an age, dissolve in a maddening spectacle of light and sound.

From the single path that I have learned to love and tread, I have now come to the vast expanse of the ocean. Where shall I go? Shall I explore the uncharted waters, looking for treasure isles? Shall I comb the seashore, picking up shells and pearls? Or shall I stay rooted on the cobbled path, not once treading on the sand?

This was not planned, but then life is what happens while mortals plan.

Sparks

When I first met you, I swore that I will only love you as a friend.
And I did, through twists and bends.
Then you left, for reasons I will never know
Though only in your absence how my love for you has grown.

Burnt bridges are the hardest to cross
Even harder than bridges covered in moss
My sighs become melodies in the wind
Bewailing the time, the choices that had us cleaved

Fate and chance conspire to give me hope
False or true, I fearfully clutch the rope
I made the first step, but found myself wanting
Too terrified to go up, my heart is left hanging

You were the flame that might have been
That coveted spark that never found its kindling
My heart can be the coal that will ignite the flame
But my heart is afraid, so it locked itself up in my brain.