It’s been four years now and still, I never had a soft spot for anyone like I do for you. I can’t seem to put a finger on it but when it comes to you, I crumble. “It was never a good time”, I always say. But now, I’m coming to terms that it’s just an excuse I tell myself to console the soul that’s probably in constant denial within. I think I was comfortable being where I was in your life – the position I played in your life – and I wasn’t ready to give that up. I don’t think I ever will be.
I’ve always prided myself for being able to desensitize from emotions that wear me down. I’ve always been able to suppress emotions as they forced their way through from my chest and crept up the walls of my throat, finding their way to the back of my eyes, which usually gives away the vulnerability that was in constant hiding. But when it comes to you, the feeling within knows no bounds and it always almost immediately consumes me in entirety.
Over the years, I’ve learned so much about you. I’ve understood you and I thought I knew you. But it seems as though the more certain I was about you, the more uncertain I became of you. We’ve had some pretty amazing days. Days where hours felt like minutes and minutes felt like seconds. Days where I knew, without a doubt that I wanted you to be mine. And it’s in those days that I felt most enchanted and lifted.
Then comes the uncertainty. The difference in tone, in attention and in the things you do or rather, the things you don’t do when you’re around me. The resistance I would feel when I playfully tug on your arm. The deafening silence I would hear when we both have nothing to say. The forced smile and the way which you stood as the shutters of the camera lens captures proof of the unsettling moment. All of it. It was days like these when the uncertainty would break down my walls from within.
But through it all, I still didn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t. I mean, I felt feel so much for you that I would rather bounce from the extremes and make the good days count than to risk giving it all up. I think a part of me has always known that the odds of you taking a chance was as close to none and by staying within the realms of my safety net is acknowledging it.
There’s too much for me to lose – you’re too much for me to lose. When I look at you after all these years, a part of me knows that I love you – the way which one would want the best for another; a part of me also knows that I like you – the way which one craves the presence and attention of the other. I’m conflicted by you and I deal with it by internalizing it and writing about it. Because no matter what, I will never be able to, nor am I willing to, risk what I have with you now for anything.
You make me feel the extremes of the world and honestly, I would take the bad in a heartbeat every once in a while if it gives me the good.
“If you don’t do anything about how you feel, you’re always going to feel this way.” They would tell me.
There will be no end. No conclusion. What they don’t understand is, it’s not that I don’t want to do anything about it.