Is This THE Love Story of My Life?
I’m supposed to be living the dream. Well, as close as it gets while my parents still help me to make my ends meet financially. Being an online slut does not guarantee immediate financial stability like most regular jobs do. Still — I moved to a foreign country. A more open-minded, sexually liberated country with a multicultural population and various interesting events. I got my Creative and Professional Writing degree just like I hoped for. Yet, something is missing.
I feel like a leaf floating in the wind, occasionally getting caught in a relationship spiderweb that breaks down eventually. And so I keep floating around with no attachments, no nothing. Well, I guess, there is something. There’s you on my mind. But does that even count?
Sometimes I meet couples who have this memorable story of how they met several years ago, and they’re still going strong until this day. Whenever this happens, I wonder where the hell is my love story. After hearing what people have to say about you and me, I discarded our story as invalid and weird because it doesn’t fit in the shape of what love is supposed to be… AT ALL. But maybe our story is the once in a lifetime weird, memorable story of a shapeshifting love that lasts for years and never really goes away, despite us drifting apart and me trying to forget you at times. You’re like a birthmark on my skin that I can’t get rid of. The imprint of you in my life is permanent.
They say it’s one-sided and that you don’t really care. But would something one-sided last for 8 years? I think that you care in your own way, and not everyone is able to notice. But after all these years, I notice the little things that make me realize it isn’t all in my head. Like how you didn’t want me to leave just yet on the evening of New Year’s Day, and I rescheduled my flight to spend a little more time with you. How you hugged me a little tighter before I had to leave. Or how you open up to me a little more over time. I know it must be scary to do so. And to trust people in general. The world is full of disappointment, isn’t it? People leave all the time. But I want to be the one that stays. I want to be in your life as you grow old, even if we never share a home or a child.
It is strange how the heart picks who to love. There is no hidden logical formula behind all of it. You’re not the dark haired guy in a suit, my 5-year-old self was once picturing of dating when I grow up. You’re not a huge literature or music geek, someone with big, life-changing dreams, or even someone my parents are fond of. You’re just… you. And that’s enough for me. I love you and your tired, blue eyes, your spontaneity and your theories about life. I just can’t tell you that yet. Or how every time I feel stressed out or sad, I think of you while taking deep breaths and somehow things feel a little better.
I don’t know what all of this means or what’s the next chapter for us, but there is one thing I hope for — that we’ll always be in each other’s lives.
