.
I do not understand the concept of letting go that much, not when you do not need to do it in the first place. To give up something even if it pains you just for the sake of somebody else's happiness will make you a martyr. To give up something when nobody gains happiness from it, and to give up something when it could've been stopped will make you less of a martyr and more of a fool. But to give up on something only to end up saying "if only" and "what could have been" will make you the stupidest--and saddest--of all.
I do not wish to belong to the latter.
Life does not allow you to have it all for the sake of fairness. To get to where I am now, I've given up a lot of things along the way. Let go of big career opportunities, gave up on some I thought to be friends, gave up chances for a better life for something else that makes me more content--and less guilty.
And most of all, I've let go of love. And I'm not alone in this one. Ever.
But sometimes, it makes you think: life could've been fair. You see, I may not be even moved to let go of you if you told me you loved me in the first place, too. We may not even have to wait years for us to finally admit it, that long a time for the feelings to only remain as a potent ache because the love is gone but it stings because it got harshly revived with the thought of "what could be."
But it will only remain a potent ache, because it's too late. We may have loved each other before, and I may still love you now. And that wouldn't be enough. Because circumstances are different. You're already tied to somebody else. And I can not keep on waiting for you until forever. And isn't that unfair?
But I realize, after all these, after a friend of mine told me her news, that life is never a one-way process. If we speak of love, especially, it will always go two-way. I do not fret over my life right now, seeing that I'm well aware of the choices I made and understood the consequences I would face. But this is because I did not consider love (never again).
But this...her situation is a different matter altogether. For my friend, she could not change anything if the other one has made his stand. but he didn't. And now, after years moving on, hge pops a simple phrase that changed more than what my friend could take. (And I hate this man for that.) If only...
See? They would have been happy, until now. I would have looked up to them. Then I would not have to face this problem. And I would not think of it, or write about it.
Her experience gave me a lesson. If I hate being kept in the dark, especially when it concerns me, then the same might apply for others.
So from now on, I will tell you what I feel. I will tell you what to expect from me. I will be honest. And I will tell you I love you if I do. Because, at the end of the day, being hurt by your unintentional (and honest) rejection is better than dwelling on what-ifs for years and years to come. But do not forget that I told you so I could blackmail you into loving me in return. No, that's not it. You will only know someone thinks fondly of you--you deserve to know that. That your kindness made an impact on someone's life. That by just being you, you drew them to you...made them fall in love with you.
And at the end of the day, isn't it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
And for this friend of mine, who I tried to console over a KFC meal in not-so-scenic-for-an-epic-movie-in-the-works IT Park, I will tell you this: I will not let you go. I will continue to treasure you together with all the friends I love and I will not let time or circumstance set us apart. I may not be able to be there for you all the time--as there are times work really gets in the middle--but when I say I'll be there for you, that I have ears to listen, a heart to empathize with, a soul to bond with, a shoulder to cry, I mean it. With all that I have, as the greatest friend I want to be for you.
We already gave too much on love. Let's not give up this one--this one that will not allow us to say "what could've been." And maybe, we will both be free from this.
.
I do not understand the concept of letting go that much, not when you do not need to do it in the first place. To give up something even if it pains you just for the sake of somebody else's happiness will make you a martyr. To give up something when nobody gains happiness from it, and to give up something when it could've been stopped will make you less of a martyr and more of a fool. But to give up on something only to end up saying "if only" and "what could have been" will make you the stupidest--and saddest--of all.
I do not wish to belong to the latter.
Life does not allow you to have it all for the sake of fairness. To get to where I am now, I've given up a lot of things along the way. Let go of big career opportunities, gave up on some I thought to be friends, gave up chances for a better life for something else that makes me more content--and less guilty.
And most of all, I've let go of love. And I'm not alone in this one. Ever.
But sometimes, it makes you think: life could've been fair. You see, I may not be even moved to let go of you if you told me you loved me in the first place, too. We may not even have to wait years for us to finally admit it, that long a time for the feelings to only remain as a potent ache because the love is gone but it stings because it got harshly revived with the thought of "what could be."
But it will only remain a potent ache, because it's too late. We may have loved each other before, and I may still love you now. And that wouldn't be enough. Because circumstances are different. You're already tied to somebody else. And I can not keep on waiting for you until forever. And isn't that unfair?
But I realize, after all these, after a friend of mine told me her news, that life is never a one-way process. If we speak of love, especially, it will always go two-way. I do not fret over my life right now, seeing that I'm well aware of the choices I made and understood the consequences I would face. But this is because I did not consider love (never again).
But this...her situation is a different matter altogether. For my friend, she could not change anything if the other one has made his stand. but he didn't. And now, after years moving on, hge pops a simple phrase that changed more than what my friend could take. (And I hate this man for that.) If only...
See? They would have been happy, until now. I would have looked up to them. Then I would not have to face this problem. And I would not think of it, or write about it.
Her experience gave me a lesson. If I hate being kept in the dark, especially when it concerns me, then the same might apply for others.
So from now on, I will tell you what I feel. I will tell you what to expect from me. I will be honest. And I will tell you I love you if I do. Because, at the end of the day, being hurt by your unintentional (and honest) rejection is better than dwelling on what-ifs for years and years to come. But do not forget that I told you so I could blackmail you into loving me in return. No, that's not it. You will only know someone thinks fondly of you--you deserve to know that. That your kindness made an impact on someone's life. That by just being you, you drew them to you...made them fall in love with you.
And at the end of the day, isn't it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?
And for this friend of mine, who I tried to console over a KFC meal in not-so-scenic-for-an-epic-movie-in-the-works IT Park, I will tell you this: I will not let you go. I will continue to treasure you together with all the friends I love and I will not let time or circumstance set us apart. I may not be able to be there for you all the time--as there are times work really gets in the middle--but when I say I'll be there for you, that I have ears to listen, a heart to empathize with, a soul to bond with, a shoulder to cry, I mean it. With all that I have, as the greatest friend I want to be for you.
We already gave too much on love. Let's not give up this one--this one that will not allow us to say "what could've been." And maybe, we will both be free from this.
.
