C

Why We Fell Apart

There were only two instances where I can vividly remember having a real, sensible conversation with you: the moment you told me you love me and the time we had to let it go.

                We fell apart not because we weren't the right match. I always believed we were meant for each other. We were complementary. We fell apart because we thought we’re too comfortable with each other. We were free-flowing individuals and we had a relationship that’s transparent rather than confidential. Normally, we have fights, but abnormally people around us always intervene like our relationship is a game show that needs an opinion poll all the time.

                We fell apart because we understood the meaning of spark, which we only had for a very short moment. Maybe we rushed things out or maybe because we thought we’re going to be good together, but none of the reasons I tailored seem to fit to what we have been and who we have become.

                We fell apart because I was busy and you’ve got plenty of your time in your hands. You demanded something I cannot always give and I demanded for your understanding but you demanded freedom in return. We fell apart because your inferiority is superior to anything else in this world.

                We fell apart because you wanted our story to be ‘your’ story. Relationships are two stories being interwoven but that wasn’t the thing with us. You always wanted to tell your story when it was supposed to be ours.

                You were a trophy but never a prize. That’s how you ‘packaged’ yourself to me before and I have always believed that. But things differ in a blink of an eye and I just realized you were not the person I knew.

                We fell apart because I got tired of everything. Things just don’t fall into their proper places and everything is so messed up and cluttered and my life could not afford to be in this kind of scenario again and you never understood what commitment meant for me and you never actually did anything to save up this relationship. We’ve easily given up and we’re actually not afraid of losing anything along the way.

                Or maybe because nothing will be lost because once and for all, nothing was gained. We just placed a tag but we never bought it anyway.

                We thought relationships were about having a tag when it’s about having a commitment. We thought relationships are about telling a story when it’s about telling a story together. We thought it’s about independently growing when it’s growing as one.

                And that’s why we fell apart.

B

Baby,

You were the first guy I have been friends with in my college life. I never was into male friendships—specifically because I am afraid I might be discriminated by the “macho” stereotype of men in this patriarchal society. I didn't make many male friends in my high school days because the guys thought being friends with gay would make them gay as well. You know, their egos are bigger than their balls most, if not, all the time.

But you were there and you had the courage to befriend me. At first I was hesitant because I felt so awkward being your companion, and I was afraid this would go nowhere. But you stood by me through my ups and downs, and you were there in my victories and defeats. Thank you for that.

At this moment, four years have passed, and I am very happy that you've been a better version of yourself. I've seen you in your worse, and now I’m seeing you in good shape (although, not physically) and I am very confident you would unleash your full potential at the right time which is very soon.

And now I’m going to be honest with you. I love you from the very first time we knew each other and it pains me a lot to see you broken and shattered. It pains me more to see you committing the same mistakes over and over again, as if you never learned from your experiences. But maybe you thought life is a series of chances and I’m seeing life without Plan Bs, and that’s where the knot seems to loose.

I love you and there is no point of hiding it now, and I love you even if you don’t love me back. My love for you is the kind of love that is more concerned about you rather than us, and I know it sounds too good to be true, but that’s how I am feeling it in my heart.

And now we’ll be separated more than we were separated in college, and I am not sure where your path is heading, and I am not sure if our lives will ever cross again, but I know one thing for sure: I will always be here for you because you were there for me. You’re one of the best guys I have ever met in my life. I love you.

And I am wishing you happiness,

Baby. 

A

(or to Anyone who reads this)

You are not alone. Or maybe you are but you’re not the only one.

It was through my experiences that I am writing this blog full of emotional suicides and failed attempts to say something to someone I love. I don’t know what power the feeling of love has, but it is the only force that makes me silent all the time.

I've been to seven (failed) relationships. I say failed because none actually last for long (except the nonsense 2-year relationship with the guy in one of the Alphabet’s letters) and I actually hate that fact. No, let’s get it straight. Nobody likes short-term relationships especially in the time you feel like you’re going well. I don’t know where the problem was, but I’d like to believe it’s on me.

I am a very vocal person when it comes to practically everything. I’m always frank about the things I observe. One friend even suggested that I could use euphemisms but what for? I mean, people would rather get hurt by the things said straight than feel bad because they did not get the message across.

Like you, I always wanted to say the things I feel to the person I love. But how could I even say that when the end has already started? They say we fail to say things we want to say because we are so consumed of happiness. And when the parting, the separation comes, we regret every moment we wasted and wished we could have expressed everything. I wish I could have told my previous relationships how I love them and how I love the idea of being taken care of, and how I am mad at them being so silent about their feelings and how I felt when they make short replies on my messages.  

There are things I wanted to tell and I’m telling them now, through this blog.

This is a blog about the feelings I have failed to say, and I am doing this because I am alone.

And I’m not the only one.