I don’t want to say that I’ve reached the limit of my patience because by now I’ve realized that I will surprise myself. Every time I think I cannot push myself further and that I am done with what I was trying to achieve, I give myself another chance. I give us another chance.
The truth, though, is that although I am giving it a million chances, our growth is stunted. It will remain so unless you try as well. Nature loves symmetry, and no flight is taken with one wing.
We seemed to be on the same page initially. We wanted to know the likes and the dislikes. We were ready to confess the want to stay in touch. However, somewhere down the line, as the talks grew personal, your anecdotes turned impersonal, as my questions moved to your core, your answers repelled me from the periphery itself.
We both know that sitting at opposite ends of an ocean isn’t the best way to get to know each other. Yet, I believed that when we decided that we do want to know each other, we would both make an honest effort to do so in every way possible. I know text messages will never replace the short scribbles that I would like to leave on your desk and have you find them in your papers, nor can calls ever compensate the lack of context that expressions and gestures bring. A video call may feel like it bridges all of that, yet every time you tease me, I won’t be able to nudge you and every time we’re overwhelmed we won’t be able to hug, and we will crudely be reminded of the distance. But you know what is worse? When we don’t even try with what we have.
I guess I understand what you are trying to do; you do not want to invest yourself when you think you will be hurt. But do you not see it, the less you invest, the more I try, and the more scarred I get. Coming close to each other, whether nearby or miles away, will transform both of us, and there are more chances than not that we might get smudged by the other. We both carry baggage, and have complications that will resurface when our facades of formal behavior fall. I don’t know if knowing each other will help solve these or make us further complex. What I do know is that there is one baggage I do not wish to carry, the one of regret; regret of not trying.
I would like to believe that I care for you and love you unconditionally, at the same time I know that we inherently seek a return. It’s impossible to actively expend energy when there is no result. If I never cross the threshold, at one point I will give up and lose the motivation to pull myself up for knowing you. I can tell you that in some passive way you will continue to remain in my memories. If I hear your name, even after years, it will still take me to your face and perhaps something you have said. When you want something so much, you can stop wanting it, but you can never unlearn the idea that you once wanted it. But is this what you want to make of us: a memory of wishful thinking?
I dislike ultimatums and hence, I dislike giving people one. Yet, my treasure of interest and persistence that felt abysmal at start seems to be getting transformed into despair. All my cards are on the table, but we can’t go any further if we stay off-center.
The moment you are ready to take the plunge, I can promise that my legs won’t twitch with reluctance once. Whatever happens after the jump, we will take care of it together. If you don’t want to, look me straight in my eyes, and say it. It might hurt me, but more than that I will appreciate your honesty. How long will I wait until you make your decision? Well, it’s like Oscar Wilde said: ‘ If you’re not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.’