I heard from somewhere that you cannot disassociate pain from love.
While I believe it’s true, there’s something inside me that’s still hoping there will be minimal pain. Unless you’re a masochist, no one really wants the pain that comes along with the love, right?
The moment I realized I have fallen in love with you, I also have embraced the fact that there will be pain.
And I am no stranger to that kind of pain. I’ve felt it before. I’ve slept through it and cried with it before, so that sharp pain that shoots right through the heart became very familiar to me already.
As much as I love Lang Leav and her way with words, I would have to disagree with her when she said that if one claims that he or she has loved twice, then this person has never loved at all.
You were not the very first one that I have loved, that’s true.
But the love I have for you was the purest one I have felt for someone. And I’m not even kidding.
I would come to a point when I would wish that I have never seen you in a way others can’t. People would say a lot of things about you, but I know most of them have only seen half the surface. I would wish I’d never known your beliefs, your stand, your struggles and your pain. I would wish I’d never known the simple things that made you happy or the secrets I accidentally knew.
But there’s beauty in knowing people beyond their surfaces. There’s beauty in knowing you. There’s beauty in your whole being despite all the flaws — I’m not even sure if you realize it, but there is.
It was on a late afternoon, in the middle of a busy coffee crib. You sat across me, sipping your usual as you stare outside the window. I’m not sure if it’s because of the way the sunset rays hit your face, or because I was too high from the aroma of Arabica beans, but you’ve never appeared more natural, tangible and gorgeous to me.
You were just several inches away – very near — but also too far.
That was when I felt that familiar pang of pain shot right through my heart. I knew right there and then, I finally have fallen in love, painfully, with you.
I guess it has always been there, deep down, and just wasn’t spoken. It was like a can full of worms wanting to be opened, and I know already what’s in there so I am avoiding to open it at all cost. However, the worms were just too strong and they badly wanna get out.
I didn’t know what to do with all of these feelings. And it was hard, and painful because you know it’s never gonna happen, but I can’t be mad. Sometimes I want to be mad, but no matter how hard I try to be mad, I cannot.
So I’ve always been there. With you. For you. Through the good, to the funniest, to the most random then the most mundane, to the most stupid and even up to the worst times, I was there. I’d even take your fits of laughter and even your meltdowns. I’ve grown fond of these things and sometimes I would wish I’d get tired.
Now I wish I had gotten tired.
So when I saw you talking to her the other day, there was that familiar pain again in my heart. It pierced deeper this time, though. You know the kind of pain you get when you worked out on the gym too much? Yes, you get tired when the workout’s done. You can’t breathe. You feel sore. But the pain gets worse the following morning, then you can’t run up the stairs or even sit down properly. You can’t function.
It’s like that, only this pain in my heart I have decided not to show you, or everyone else.
When I saw you talking to her the other day, I saw you happy. And maybe that’s what makes the pain somehow tolerable, because all I wanted was to see you happy.
I don’t know how to alleviate the pain as time goes by — maybe it will just start to disappear as I continue to move on. I have no idea how to stop the pain from piercing through my heart, but I know I can make something beautiful out of it.
I heard from somewhere that you cannot disassociate pain from love. I believe that’s true.
So maybe I cannot stop this pain inside until I stop loving you.