I Will Get Used To Your Absence

It’s like the vibrating hum emanating from a tuning fork. Steady. Consistent, but not without end. Heightened senses brought about emotions ranging from one end of the spectrum to the other. Now, I feel just like a shaken soda bottle, waiting to be opened to let the pressure out.

You came out of nowhere. Unexpected is the word, and I stepped into it, into you, warily. Fearfully. You responded with reassurances that could only be described as flowery, until my wariness dissipated, and changed to willingness. It was a struggle at first; after all, that initial fear was not unfounded. But how does one keep from falling in the face of such charm?

No matter.

I fell for you anyway.

You were, at once, the best inspiration and the worst distraction. I wanted to know everything there was to know about you, but discovered my guard was still up when I realized I was limiting myself from asking too many questions. I didn’t want to be a nuisance, after all. There was a palpable sense of self-transformation on my part though. I couldn’t help it. I felt myself morphing into the best possible version of me, due in part to discussions of a future together (all of which you initiated). Someone even took notice and started busting my chops about getting all dolled up everyday. When they jokingly asked for whom I was doing it, I could only blush helplessly in response. I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, figuring it would save me from a long-winded explanation in the event things didn’t pan out. Not to mention there was still this whole stigma surrounding the manner in which we met.

And so, within our own little bubble, whatever it was you and I had bloomed. Words like infinity and butterflies took on a special meaning. Suddenly, all of the sappy songs were about you. Your business trip to Toulouse drove me up the wall, and I very nearly burst into tears hearing from you that first time, your radio silence put to an end. I remember once thinking, Dream’s over, time to wake up. When I mentioned this, you had simply chuckled and said “Impatient girl.” And just like that, my doubts were immediately erased, my next train of thought somewhere along the lines of Could it be? Is this real? (I never voiced those out though.)

Sure, I was scared of the intensity of my feelings, the depth of my emotions, especially considering the rate at which things between us escalated. But I probably still would have told you that you could have expected me to never waver. Despite zero guarantees. And I would have clung only to the hope that those words be reciprocated.

Life’s funny, however. Just when you think you can rest on your laurels, it creeps up behind you and yells “Syke!” And it dawns on us how easily others’ feelings change. When the flowery words are gone, and in their place are increasingly bewildering messages filled with non-committal smileys and indifference, we’re once again left to find closure on our own. Talk about déjà vu.

I want so much to say, I wish you hadn’t hurt me, I wish you’d kept your word. But I won’t. Perhaps it no longer resonates, because what good will it do, really? You’re there, I’m here. And the distance between us has grown to be more than just physical. Yes, I could start waving the figurative white flag and swear it all off for good, but if I think long and hard about it, this is infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things.

So while the hurt that accompanies missing you is almost like a physical ache, I will choose to remember that I had simply grown accustomed to your presence.

And I will, likewise, get used to your absence.