From A Former Escapist (The Runner’s Love Letter)

For a time I was convinced that there was only the past for me. I formed a sort of “Love-Hate” relationship with the past wherein love and hate both shared equal footing. I loved it because the past, to me, was a safe ground to explore all our collective neuroses. Where achievements were revisited, bouts of jaw-breaking laughter replayed, where tears didn’t sting as much anymore and where our mistakes became laughable.  I hated it for the same reasons. I hated it because it reduced my “One Great Love” to a “Once Great Love” and my sources of pride as diminutive remnants of past glory.

So I decided to wipe my slate clean and make do with the present. A lot argued that I made a good decision, that “There’s no better time” and all … but honestly, the vastness of possibility that the present brought along with it just terrified me.

I couldn’t move, So I ran.

Without any real plan or direction, I ran. With reckless abandon. I ran with nothing but the proud knowledge that I could. With the belief that my desire for movement, my dire need for something dynamic, would make me stronger.

I wasn’t all wrong.

I just wasn’t all right either.

And just when I thought you were going to judge me for my aimlessness, you said:

“It’s simple really. It’s one foot after the other. Over and over again. Before you know it, you’ll look back and a mountain will be behind you”

I will not claim to have the same level of eloquence as you but I want you need you to know that I LOVE YOU and that I am grateful.

For helping me let go of my pride, teaching me the dangers of hubris and the primacy of love and humility.

For understanding how I sometimes thrive on escapism and for letting your arms be my frequent destination.

For taking me out of my box and for not being a run of the mill type of love. You were never conventionally romantic.No boatloads of flowers, chocolate or champagne. You were straightforward: “Blanket-roof-soup-sandwiches-watch-the-skyline-listen-to-the-night” type of love and I could not be luckier.

Much of which I think I knew yet denied ever having even an inkling of. And in a moment, you reminded me of a piece of myself I’d long buried for fear that it would hurt me again if I kept it. And it was an absolute experience being reintroduced to it through you.

I love you.

A few more words, a couple of trips and gashes, and many kilometers later, I will keep telling you,

I love you. and I never have to see the end, knowing your strides  are right next to mine.

Haiku #31

 

How you’ve managed to construct yourself is fascinating.

I never noticed it, but now I see your heart, your personality in your eyes shining and fusing with your appearance. And then I realize everything. All my fears and my doubts suddenly rush in and make me want to run. I fear the loss of you, I doubt my worthiness, and I want to  run….both FROM you and TO you. Is that something you can reconcile?

 

 

Endless

I’ve been lazy so busy lately that I havent been writing as much. And today, I got a new pad to scribble on, and believe me, the letters are coming back. IN WAVES.

We’re back.

So please keep reading.
I will be posting more from time to time!

Yay!

♥,
G

Depth and Distance

It’s like how different things are now from how they were back then. You never used to need me to finish my sentences to get what I meant. And now I dont even know how to start talking to you.

I miss you.
I wont can’t even say it.

Now I’m afraid to face the possibility that we dont even have those same thoughts anymore.

Haiku #23

The beating heart of it all is that I’m here and I’m finding it difficult to believe that you are too.

Haiku #22

Every means I can get my hands on is victim to the words you make me think of. And now all I want is here and the only direction I see now is Forward. Forever.
You being here makes it seem every bit possible.

Haiku #21

“I fancied myself on stable grounds before I met you. Past disappointments have given me more than just a glimpse of reality so I never worried about well….ever worrying again. I knew what to expect. I knew what never to wait for. Then you come bolting in, so real, and yet so far from my so-called ‘TRUTHS’.
I guess what I’m saying is, WELCOME. Stay as long as you like”

From A Recovering Recluse

No one ever wants to hear they’re late.
Much less “too late”.

 
It’s enough that you know it. It’s another to be told and have the truth rammed down your throat and have it come back up as a lump cause you’re about to cry. I disconnected. I was detached. But my detachment did not equal indifference. I wasn’t there, but I cared. I chose to bury myself in work and books, because it was easier than to have to live with the opinions of others.

 
“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay”
was what I heard so often. I was done. I wasn’t pretending. I was coasting. I was enjoying where I was, who I was with, what I was doing and it was overwhelming. Not overwhelming because I was so sad before that, but because I didn’t know I would like it as much as I did. So much so that I look back at the past with regret, not because I hated the circumstances it ended up in, but because I could have read so much more, laughed so much louder and danced without a care more often.

 
It seems though, that nothing now can protect me from the reality that is YOU.
Even after a night with a good friend, or a weekend with the waves, an afternoon with a good book, half a month without coffee, I still itch to tell you.

 
“I no longer need coffee. It seems I never did. I just really liked being able to drink my dessert instead of chew. Hello.”

 
“Harvey Specter is the only man I can imagine ever having babies with. I wonder why. It might be all that Tom Ford. Or his vests. Or the way he looks at you that makes you feel insignificant. Or impregnated. Hello”

 
“I want to surf, then get drunk. Or get drunk then surf. You’re tall, so I bet you’d look drunk while surfing. What with your center of gravity so far from the board you’d probably wobble. But you wouldn’t slur your words. So you’d only look drunk from afar. Hello”
People think I speak in metaphors or that I’m inebriated when I send them things like this. But you just answer.

 
“Huh? Hi”
“It’s the Tom Ford. I don’t notice the way he looks at people. Hi”
“I have very good balance, thank you. Hi”

 
Or you don’t answer.

 
Which honestly, I sometimes actually prefer, so I wouldn’t have to (over)think of a reply. Bacause the moment it stops is when I feel like some sort of a failure. Like I’ve lost your interest, when in truth you might’ve just fallen asleep. But see, that’s how I think, and I think you know. Which is even scarier.

 
So I disconnect.

I walk off in a different direction.

I look the other way.
But I always look back.

 
Even if I already am too late.

From A Concerned On-Looker

They say you play the hand you’re dealt in life. But they don’t really equip you with the manual or the how-to’s of dealing. There are no insurances in relationships. You don’t get your money back after you call it quits. The bereaved party doesn’t get the puppy you bought together or a bigger share in the assets. A relationship may be called a liability after a break-up. There was no WARNING. There was no fine print to prepare you for what you go through after the so-called love of your life says “I’m done”.

I know you’re in and out of ruts. You’re cheerful one moment because you watched a funny movie. You’re miserable the next because you have a funny quip in reference to the movie and the one person who can understand it and give you shit for poor delivery is nowhere in sight.  You are laughing your head off one minute because of a great episode of Big Bang Theory, then you cry cause you searched for the song at the beginning credits and when you typed in: Bare Naked Ladies, the search automatically showed “Call and Answer”. You engage in social activities because your friends have started to complain about your absence and/or your “Debbie Downer” persona on the rare occasions that you do go out with them. It’s like when they ask you “What do you want to do next, after we eat?” your answer is a blank stare and a simple “Whatever, anything you like” (which really means “What do I want to do?!? I want to lie in my bed all day and listen to Celine Dion! I want to practice target shooting so I can blow off the head of the bimbo that’s got her arm wrapped around my boyfriend!!!” Correction, EX boyfriend).

I know you’re faking the outbursts of laughter at dinner, cause it disappears fast than you can say “Help! I think I’m dead inside”.

I know you’re broke. Cause even though you stay home a lot, you’ve spent all your money on unnecessary new things that are replacements for things that were perfectly functional right before you smashed them with a hammer, a shoe, or threw them out your window. All cause he gave them to you or they remind him of you.

I know you feel ugly when you look fine because of the spur-of-the-moment haircut you got after you saw a photo of them eat at the same Japanese joint you went to after the Incubus concert (“How dare they step in my favourite sushi place! Are the walls of a place I so loved to be thus polluted?! I’m never having Japanese food again!”). Your hair will grow back. So will your love for Unagi and California Rolls.

Before you stop reading and call me to tell me off about the absurdity of my thoughts and my audacity to air this all out, calm down. I’m just letting you know what others know and what I’m sure you already know: It’s okay to be down and out. We don’t expect you to be doing cartwheels anytime soon. We haven’t given you a deadline or a time frame that you have to strictly follow. We don’t pity you. We’re not judging you. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re still here. Not because we think you’ll eventually be a danger to yourself, but because we’re excited to get a text message from you asking where the gang is. We hopefully await the day you come over to any one of our houses with ice cream just cause we like it (not to wallow and drown sorrows in Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough).

Some people say this will all make sense someday. I don’t necessarily agree. We may never find all the answers to your “Why’s”. But I honestly don’t care. All I care about is that I see you smile. And that you believe that all this, while they might not make sense, will be laughable in the future. It’ll come up in conversation and you will not so much as pause before you burst into fits of laughter. I know this is possible because I’ve done it, and you’ve seen me go through the lowest of lows (remember the long-ass letters I’d send to you instead?), seen my weight fluctuate, taken calls from me at 4am cause I had drunk one too many Jager-bombs. So this is how I return the favour.

I know it feels like shit.

But I’ll be here til you realize that shit makes the best compost.

We’ll wait and see what blooms out of it together.

Hendrix’s Girl: From Steadfast Hope

Dear You,

Before you decide for or against me, you must first know that I didn’t need any saving. I was doing pretty fine on my own. But you did anyway, so let’s toast to that. Seriously, you saved me from the deep shit I put myself in. So I guess I can call you my hero.

If you plan on staying, or starters, you have lot of things to keep things in mind.

I like ice cream although at times, it upsets me. I still eat ice cream anyway. Like the way I love someone. Figure it out.

Books are my best company. I can stay long inside a bookstore. I can “patiently” wait for you there. To remind you, patience is subjective in my world. So always be in time or else.

I can be too withdrawn, I may come off as a snob. I don’t go around telling everyone how I feel. I don’t shout it out to the world. There’ll be times that you’ll feel invisible or unappreciated because I don’t really know how express my feelings. In short, you’ll often misunderstand me. And that would result to an argument. So let’s not fight about it. Just keep in mind that I am not good at expressing it. But when I say I’m yours, I am all yours. I could love you more than I can ever promise.

Not a fan of PDA. So when I hug and kiss you in public that would probably mean I am so into you. But I’d rather we stick to the simple things, and not make others cringe in public.

I talk a lot when I get nervous. As much I talk a lot, I want to hear your voice. So just tell me your stories, tell me all about your day. Let me laugh at your jokes. I’ll be your number one fan. Or your worst critic. I can’t promise that I won’t be harsh. Share your wonderful stories to me.

I am a control freak. So don’t be freaked out when I try to control you,  instead challenge me. Challenge me with your amazing writing or your fantastic taste in music or your love of life or even your weird taste in food. Amaze me with your thoughts, insights and your perspective in life.

I’m just rambling here. You see. I am starting to run out of words.

See you on the right side of the corner. Don’t forget to hug me tight and hold my hand.

 

See you soon, love.