It was a gripping decision. Like they claim, “someone’s always going to get hurt”. It’s funny how during the slow, dripping process not necessarily only one side falls, the other does too (then again, that depends on the nature and circumstance of the relationship I suppose). Not only do emotions become lost, contributed time, effort, feeling, touch… but the most sacred of all, the sight of yourself and the capacities deep invested within you begin to fade and nothing is left of you but a piece of matter… simply existing, simply floating on.
I was never meant to be chiseled into someone’s “ideal” of their somebody. As much as I crammed inside their little spaces, I was never snug enough for a comfortable fit. First came the idea of a hidden gem reinforced with existentialist ideas, laidback mannerisms. You desired my head full of sometimes forced speculations…sometimes even drawn from clouds of smoke. As much as you yearned for those “deep” statements and tried mercilessly blowing the shit out of our minds, I wonder if you ever realized the hours of philosiphical conversations and contemplations really lead nowhere but to the contradicting bullshit you ever filled me up with— how no matter how soft we put it, we were still both two drugged out fucks refusing to measure real risks and advance forward. Freud, the gentleman down the street who supposedly saw right through you, all the psychological suspicions lead nowhere but to the cold, simple truth that I was left devastated by your “mentally rational” actions of slipping early in the night to devour sights of pretty drunk, greased hair girls. Bunch of meta-physical bullshit. Plain mess, you were. Then again, I was never her either though. Your little hiphopshallywhop independent “bossy-flossy” bitch one with coffee, conversation, and culture. This is where I was opened to one enlightening fact: Just because he likes the same weird shit you do, doesn’t make him your soulmate. Nor does it reveal a good man or better yet, your soulmate. I don’t believe in the kind of “manufactured” definition of soulmates anyway. To me, you end up staring at the person who was with you since day one: Best friend.
So I can’t be too bonded mentally, culturally… abnormally. What about the person who has practically nothing similar to me and only chases after simple things? I began to whittle down to Gwen who wanted nothing more but the simple things, a simple kind of life. 9to5, average house, poster wife and kids… You so fit the bill, down to the very brim of your hat. The type of guy who also looks for kicks at local bars where you’ll probably never find anything worthwhile anyway. Down to your very shoes, you were the exact image I tried avoiding all this time. So why not have you for the night? I never knew that we would end up crashing down the highway together and end up where we were. Apart from the swag and fucked up pastpresent, I turned into Gwen again. You are so lovely underneath it all. A genuine human being who despite your own personal conflicts and clashes, has the capacity to still love and accept others. You’re more than what you amount yourself to be… And as much as past issues have been brought to the table, I know that you truly gave all you had. Simply stated, you were “the best I ever had,”. But it’s not enough… why? Because I’m not even enough for myself right nor you. Love is NEVER enough… accept the love that you have within yourself.
I suppose I’m merely not a person who can juggle two important priorities at once: Relationship&Self. However, I can never simply reduce myself to be some girlfriend who gives here and there. I want to give you my world. I want to be your world.
Summer: [laughing] No… I just, don’t feel comfortable being anyone’s girlfriend. I don’t actually feel comfortable being anyone’s anything.
I don’t need anyone. You don’t need anyone. Perhaps for some people, situations differ and I understand that we desire to be valued by someone else.. but shit,
I’m rather to take ownership of myself first before being labeled and belonging to someone else.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
I refuse to simply exist, I’ll fight to l i v e.
Cheers to being alone.