Warning: Heavy emotional content below. Read at your own risk.
It’s not strange for me to feel highly nostalgic and emotional when riding a public transportation. There’s something soothing when memories flash in my head and my life takes center stage for my viewing. It is often my time to recollect what has transpired lately in my life, to weigh options when I’m about to make a major decision or to think about friends I’ve lost and missed. In most of my reminiscence, the one that I always play on rewind is those affairs of my heart.
Like most young adults at the peak of their maturity, I too am obsessing over finding, as cliché and as corny as it sounds, my “Other Half”. I have been through all emotional hurdles of adolescent love in high school and in college. I am way past that. I guess I deserve to feel the real thing.
I have always been on the receiving end of unrequited love. I never got there. Somehow, it just wasn’t for me. I wonder if this is God’s way of telling me that I’m not cut out for love. That maybe another love is set for me… one that does not involve romance with the opposite sex but a divine relationship with the Father in Heaven. I shudder to think that’s the case. I’m not a hypocrite to say I didn’t envision a life with a doting husband, cute kids and a 3-storey house with ginormous swimming pool, picturesque garden and let’s not forget the white picket fence, shall we? Yes, I truly did not just imagine that as I write this. It is a product of long wishful thinking’s, dreaming on stars each night and daily prayers that my soul mate shall reach me at last. But twenty years passed and still no one came close to my fantasy
I try to maintain my composure. I tell myself it’s okay. I will live that dream no matter how long it takes. But to be honest, it’s wearing me down. It’s exhausting to get my hopes up and come crashing down with depression the next. Falling in love is not the hardest thing for me to do. In fact, when a guy displays kindness, breaks into a warm smile and treats me like a real gentleman, my heart melts over. And in the next instant, I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Then the cycle of unrequited love begins. It’s all the same. I like him way too much for my (and his) own good. Then I despise him for not returning my affections and soon will forget about him like nothing’s happened. I am not one who chases guys out once I know it’s not the wisest choice there is. I am left to bleed ‘til I am healed enough to block the pain. But this does not happen all the time. Often I am left in the sidelines, admiring from afar and keeping my true emotions in check. No one really knows the emotional turmoil I’ve dug myself in. I’m not one who gossips about it, afraid that I might jinx it or just plain embarrassed of my infatuation. But for those few who do know, I honestly still reserve a part of the story to myself. It’s in a place where I alone can bask in the loneliness or otherwise.
I know I’m still young, and many a chap will conquer my heart but sometimes my unattached status just hurts like hell.