i’m in love with someone who loves me but will never choose me

I’m in love with someone who loves me but will never choose me.

I could never blame him, though. I was too much of a coward to tell him how I feel, too caught up in my sorrow to acknowledge that I was feeling something for him, too distracted by what I thought was right. I lost the chance to love him because I wasn’t strong enough.

It kills me every time “I love you” escapes from his lips, knowing that he means: “I love you, but I can’t choose you,”.

And as much as I want to keep my promise to never leave him, I want to forget for a while. I want to practice how not to break whenever he talks about her, want to learn how to fold my heart in shatterproof pieces every time his face lights up at her messages.

Sometimes I like to delude myself, drowning myself in make-believe. Doing mundane things with him made me feel as if I can have every day with him: doing the dishes, cooking meals, washing clothes. I can have this with you every day, my love. But it’s not right.

To be honest, I’m afraid I’m not the right person for him. I’m too much and too little at the same time. He couldn’t figure me out, he said. I had to stop myself from saying, “But you don’t have to. You know me more than myself, haven’t you realized that?”. Instead, I just smiled at him.

I don’t think he’d ever understand how much I love him. He came during my darkest night; he took my breath away and breathed beauty back to my life. Tell me, how can I ever let go of the love that made me want to live again? How can I ever let go of the love that made me realize that I am still capable of this much love?

I can almost forgive the world for all the hurt and the pain when it gave me him. It was as if he was the universe’s apology to me, its redemption for all the sorrow. To say he changed me is an understatement as much as an exaggeration. He never changed me intentionally: he made me realize I can be alive.

He is my favorite sunrise and my most beautiful sunset.

I’m in love with him.

I love him.

And I will continue to do so, even if he can’t ever choose me.

Thunderstorm

There’s a storm rolling in. I suppose the humidity should’ve been a hint, but since I’ve been back home, I haven’t paid much attention to the weather. Some towns are just unpredictable, and all I noticed earlier was my shirt sticking to my skin while I brushed my hair.

The downpour started while I was going home. The sound it made as it pounded on the roof muted the conversations inside. I could barely hear my mother. I stay silent, listening to the open skies.

I saw it before I heard it. Lightning flashed, and then the deafening clap of thunder. I covered my ears a few seconds too late, and my chest hurt as my heart pounded its panic. I’ve been alive past a fifth of a century, and yet I’ve never gotten over my fear of thunders.

I never noticed it before. Or maybe the right phrase should’ve been, “I never let anyone notice it before.” My knees shake and my heart hurts, but I stay silent, willing my throat to swallow my cries of fear. I didn’t want to be weak. Not in front of anyone.

Except for you. I never fully admitted how scared of thunders I was until we were together. We spent an afternoon just watching a thunderstorm, and I longed to hold on to you. Don’t get me wrong: I was fascinated by the way the lightning danced, but the rhythm the thunder brought wasn’t exactly one I could dance to.

I wanted to reach out, to touch, but strangely, I wasn’t that afraid — your presence silenced my fears. And it did for the course of eight months. Eight beautiful months of not being afraid of the skies. Eight beautiful months of having someone protect me when I can’t keep up with each jolt the storm brings. Eight beautiful months of braving thunderstorms and dancing and laughing in the rain and loving despite the fear.

Eight months is far too short. Our dance in the rain ended too soon. Turns out, not even the bravest hearts can weather the worst.

And me? Well.

I’m still afraid of thunderstorms.

Make this moment last forever

The rain is coming to a stop outside. The angry downpour that pounded on the roofs outside the room’s window has mellowed to a lullaby. Still, the sky was still gray, promising a repeat performance later on. She does not mind, though, as instead of the usual disquiet she feels whenever the skies open up, today she is enveloped by a contented warmth, the kind that starts from your chest and ends in your upturned lips.

Shifting her gaze from the window and the world outside, she turned her eyes to the left side of the room. This part has always fascinated her. It’s a wild collection of things – toys, books, papers, a standee, anime trading cards, curious keepsakes, most of which she does not fully comprehend. She yearns for enlightenment: “What is this for?”, “How do you play this?”, “Who’s this character?”, “Have you finished this book?”.  To her, these mementos are a portal, a black hole – she wants to understand, she wants to know. She wants.

A slight movement removed her from her thoughts. This time, she turned her gaze to her side. Her smile, already on her lips, travelled to her eyes. He was snoring slightly, though she does not mind at all. His lips are slightly apart, his long eyelashes emphasized against the slight purple of his eyelids. She frowned at the dark circles under his eyes; he isn’t sleeping well again. She would ask him if anything has been bothering him lately.

His arms are draped over her body, making her afraid to move. She doesn’t want to wake him. Still, she stared at him: he was easily the most beautiful person her eyes had seen. He doesn’t believe her whenever she tells him though, but it’s okay. She will never get tired of telling him anyway.

She closed her eyes for a bit, as she was feeling drowsy. A realization dawned: she had never let herself feel sleepy – heaven forbid, sleep – around a man. She looked at the arm half-hugging her torso: nor has she ever let a man touch her like this. An understanding settled in her eyes: she trusts him. She feels safe and secure in his arms. She laughed inside – a year ago, this would’ve been a miracle.

She will tell him all these thoughts later. For now, she burrowed herself closer to him, inhaling his scent. He drew her closer, kissing the top of her head. For now, she will have this moment, praying it will last forever.

Quote #9

I never realized how loving me took its toll on you. I guess I was too much. My existence became a burden. Maybe, in some way, the life you gave me was from your own. I felt so full of love while you felt empty. I couldn’t blame you for walking out. I’d never forgive myself for dimming the bright fire of your soul I loved so much.

in retrospect

One of the most unique mysteries I found in our relationship was how I – a person who cannot out down her pen and notebook, someone whose phone Notepad are full of little musings – cannot seem to write about us, or you. It seemed as if I ran out of words to describe how much I love you. Let me try now.

Before you came, I was merely existing, trying to conquer the now, refusing – and failing – to think about tomorrow. I was a walking paradox, a contradiction of emotions and ideals, too damn lost to even let myself imagine the possibility of a future.

I used to be brave and confident, even though I must admit that most of the time, it’s a protecting facade. I never hesitate to try out for things I’d never imagine I’d do, and would gladly face challenges head on. Somehow, though, over the course of the war going on inside my head, I lost sense of that person. Once so brave, now too afraid. I became insecure, afraid that people would eventually see me for the fraud that I am. I back out from any idea of confrontation. I lost my guts. I lost my will to fight, even when it’s for myself, against my self. My battle scars are still on my body.

I was still fighting the losing battle when you entered my life. You – as I once said in those rare moments when poetry does not fail me – were my glorious life-changing moment. When our lips touched that fateful night, the battle inside my head halted. The voices went silent, the demons retreated. All that I could think of was, “How am I brave enough to do this?”. I’ve wanted to hold you and kiss you since I saw you, while you were falling and chasing another girl, even when they warned me against you. With simply your existence, I managed to find my courage again.

I was hesitant about the love you offered – it was so sudden, so good to be true I was afraid it will crumble away once I grasp it. The demons came back with roaring vengeance, the voices screaming. I was lost and confused and unsure save for one thing: I wanted you. I could not stay away. I wanted you in my life. I wanted to be in your life. I want to give myself – and gods, you, you – a chance for love. You could love me better. I could love you better.

Our relationship took a step further one beautiful November night. I could still feel your touch in my bones; my skin still feels your gaze. You gave me confidence as you touched me, your lips told me who I am is welcome. You kissed my scars and healed my heart. I found myself grounded by your embrace, no longer lost in confusion. Three days later, my impulsiveness – my raw need, to be honest – lead me to your heart and welcomed you home.

We were both scared and unsure, but I found something else entirely as we faced battles together: I want a future. With you. I have, for the first time ever, let myself imagine a future. I wanted a family. We picked children’s names.

Being with you meant I could dance in the thunderstorm no matter how scared I was of the thunder because I know you will keep me safe and warm. Being with you made me realize just how hard I could fight for love. Being with you let me see how much my heart can take. How much more I could have taken. For you. For us.

You gave me a future.
You gave me the will to fight.
You gave me courage.
You gave me strength.
You gave me life.

I never realized how loving me took its toll on you. I guess I was too much. My existence became a burden. Maybe, in some way, the life you gave me was from your own. I felt so full of love while you felt empty. I couldn’t blame you for walking out. I’d never forgive myself for dimming the bright fire of your soul I loved so much.

Now, thunderstorms aren’t quite the same. I am still scared, but I feel the cold in my soul. The future is once again a blur. One thing is new, adding to the mix of the voices, a new demon rising: I should have loved you better.

in the universe’s perfect time

when the universe decides it is time, someone will welcome you with open arms and open hands, ready to accept the gift of your love. they will not be scared. they will not be afraid that you – you with the wide eyes, who have always loved people more than they deserve – might love them with all you are. they will recognize that this is how you love: eyes open but looking past, palms bloody but wide open, heart unbarred, unselfish, sacrificing, ready to put them before yourself – and they will know how kind the universe has been to give them you.