Love. It is a very confusing thing. It is a hundred thousand million of emotions.
Love is a contradiction. Love is a sure thing. Love is, you know it even when you first met him.
That guy, standing outside that book store. Blonde hair with fancy t-shirt and jeans. He's smiling at you. No, it's not him. Or that boy, walking alone at the park, in a company by his pet dog. No?
I am changing my mind. Love can be a sure thing, but it not always is. However, it still have a sign, or, many signs.
Like when he comes to your room at the office, asking you for his website design. Reluctantly introducing himself.
"I may heard that you are the head of graphic designer here, hey my name is Francis Bellmore. I am a new website developer in the IT dept. Can you help me with this?"
And at that very moment, you just cannot take your eyes off him. His blue eyes, his big smile, his brown hair. You just want to see him over again.
And without you have ever realized, one month has passed, you are closed to him than ever. You know he will come to your desk at the 3rd floor, bring you your favorite Macchiato and stay few minutes for a morning talk. It is usually involving the newest IT project he's been working on, or his sweetest 8-years-old cousin who lives with him, or my new project, or practically everything.
I really savor that moment.
And he will come around again at lunch. Basically the same things, but it never fails to make me happy. We talk, we laugh. We even have that much things in common. We learn that we both love the movie 500 Days of Summer, our favorite band is Pixies, our favorite food is Pizza, and we are afraid of cat. We both like the smell when it's rain. All that morning and afternoon conversation was not enough, we call each other every single night. Continuing our discussion, like it cannot be stopped ever.
And without you ever realize, three months has passed. Three months of happiness. You start to be familiar of his smell, his touch, the sound of his laugh. That warm feeling when he's around. And your stomach.. butterfly
And how he never fails to make you happy.
--------------
He looks very happy. I scroll down that pre-wedding photos. There is no bigger happiness in the world rather than by seeing him happy. It is honest and sincere. It is the truth.
I put down my pen.
"Would you marry me?"
I look deeply into his eyes. The most beautiful thing in the world. Francis is kneeling with a diamond ring in a small-velvet-box. I want to cry.
"I can never live without you. It has been a thousand times I said it, you know that. My flight will come in a few minutes. Marry me?"
I wish he would stop asking. I wish he would just be silent.
But it is just three months. How I can just stop working, moving around the globe with him, throwing away my career because of a guy that I have just known for, three months?
This is my shortest relationship so far. I had two four-months, even one three-years relationship. But it feels different. This is the happiest I have ever felt.
"Francis, I am so sorry. I cannot answer to this now. I need some time."
And he understands. He will take one-hour flight every friday. I pick him up at the airport this friday, like every other fridays before. I really do hope that he won't ask the same question soon.
But it does happen on the fifth friday.
"You think about it, what's your answer?"
And I knew my answer. I knew it for a long time. But it doesn't make me easier to say it to him.
"No."
And he never gets back on friday.
Sometimes I check my cell on friday. But it never rings. I never go back to the airport to pick him up anymore. That greatest friday happiness has gone in instance.
I hate friday!
Have you ever been in farewell before? What do you feel? Sure, you can do whatever you want to convince yourself that you are fine.
And it has been six months since he's gone and never come back. I start to reach the word "well" in farewell. It really hurts at first but then I raise again and move on.
Even though that "what if" question still popped up in my head few times.
What if I say yes to his proposal?
If only I could go back to the past..
You know, time sometimes can be very tricky.
Have you ever see the opening scene in the movie when a boy bumps on a girl? The girl is holding some books and her books then fall down the floor. That boy bow to help the girl, taking her books and they stare at each other.
You know what, I have never asked to have a life full of drama, but that scene happens to me, for real. However, there is a slight difference. He is the one who has that papers.
I help him gathering all his papers and stand again. There he is, staring at me with his blue beautiful eyes.
"Francis"
And that is not awkward at all. I cannot believe on how easy we talk and laugh again. Just like the old times. I can feel that familiar warmth on my heart. I realize that it was very cold all these times. He says, it is very nice to hear again from me, we talk a lot. And apparently he would be in town for the next two months.
"I will go back to Brooklyn on April, so please come. I really am happy that you're doing well." He gives me one of his thick paper and smiles and leaves.
It is an invitation.
My eyes are burned. My heart beats twice than usual. That cold air covers my lung, chokes me up from the inside. I feel like I wanna throw up.
I thought I have moved on all this time, but this new detail stings a little bit.
I should have known that I just lied to myself before. How can you call yourself "move on" if you still consistently have that "what if" thought in your mind?
I am not fine and I just have to accept it.
I open my Facebook search and type the girl's name from the invitation. No, I cannot do it. My head is dizzy. I hope this is just a bad dream. I would wake up and everything will be fine. But it is a reality. The hurt is real. It stabs through your heart, stays there with its poison. It is inevitable.
I grab my pen and start writing from the very beginning. How I met him, how I loved him, how I finally could let him go. With a letter, I could just faking "move on".
Yeah, that's all. I will send this, so I don't have to show up on his wedding. But I really need to see the bride's photos. So I re-open my browser. And there it is. A collection of their pre-wedding photos.
I scroll down that page, see all their photos, one by one. There he is, with that girI beside him. He looks very happy, like the luckiest man on earth, staring at his fiancee eyes, full of love. It is honest and sincere. It is the truth. She is the real one for him.
This is the end. I finally know the real answer to my "what if" question.
But it didn't happen. I am here, I am strong. Someday I will find the right one, just like him.
I did it! I answer it. I know I would never ask that question again, ever.
It is solved now.
I see their photos again. I smile without realizing it. That big burden in my heart is finally lifted. I surprise on what I feel right now. Light and relieve.
This is the freeway, I can see it now.
I put down my pen.
I throw my letter to the trash.
Whatever, I'll go to that wedding!
--------------
Love is a contradiction. Love is a sure thing. Love is, you know it even when you first met him.
That guy, standing outside that book store. Blonde hair with fancy t-shirt and jeans. He's smiling at you. No, it's not him. Or that boy, walking alone at the park, in a company by his pet dog. No?
I am changing my mind. Love can be a sure thing, but it not always is. However, it still have a sign, or, many signs.
Like when he comes to your room at the office, asking you for his website design. Reluctantly introducing himself.
"I may heard that you are the head of graphic designer here, hey my name is Francis Bellmore. I am a new website developer in the IT dept. Can you help me with this?"
And at that very moment, you just cannot take your eyes off him. His blue eyes, his big smile, his brown hair. You just want to see him over again.
And without you have ever realized, one month has passed, you are closed to him than ever. You know he will come to your desk at the 3rd floor, bring you your favorite Macchiato and stay few minutes for a morning talk. It is usually involving the newest IT project he's been working on, or his sweetest 8-years-old cousin who lives with him, or my new project, or practically everything.
I really savor that moment.
And he will come around again at lunch. Basically the same things, but it never fails to make me happy. We talk, we laugh. We even have that much things in common. We learn that we both love the movie 500 Days of Summer, our favorite band is Pixies, our favorite food is Pizza, and we are afraid of cat. We both like the smell when it's rain. All that morning and afternoon conversation was not enough, we call each other every single night. Continuing our discussion, like it cannot be stopped ever.
And without you ever realize, three months has passed. Three months of happiness. You start to be familiar of his smell, his touch, the sound of his laugh. That warm feeling when he's around. And your stomach.. butterfly
And how he never fails to make you happy.
--------------
He looks very happy. I scroll down that pre-wedding photos. There is no bigger happiness in the world rather than by seeing him happy. It is honest and sincere. It is the truth.
I put down my pen.
"Would you marry me?"
I look deeply into his eyes. The most beautiful thing in the world. Francis is kneeling with a diamond ring in a small-velvet-box. I want to cry.
"I can never live without you. It has been a thousand times I said it, you know that. My flight will come in a few minutes. Marry me?"
I wish he would stop asking. I wish he would just be silent.
But it is just three months. How I can just stop working, moving around the globe with him, throwing away my career because of a guy that I have just known for, three months?
This is my shortest relationship so far. I had two four-months, even one three-years relationship. But it feels different. This is the happiest I have ever felt.
"Francis, I am so sorry. I cannot answer to this now. I need some time."
And he understands. He will take one-hour flight every friday. I pick him up at the airport this friday, like every other fridays before. I really do hope that he won't ask the same question soon.
But it does happen on the fifth friday.
"You think about it, what's your answer?"
And I knew my answer. I knew it for a long time. But it doesn't make me easier to say it to him.
"No."
And he never gets back on friday.
Sometimes I check my cell on friday. But it never rings. I never go back to the airport to pick him up anymore. That greatest friday happiness has gone in instance.
I hate friday!
And it has been six months since he's gone and never come back. I start to reach the word "well" in farewell. It really hurts at first but then I raise again and move on.
Even though that "what if" question still popped up in my head few times.
What if I say yes to his proposal?
If only I could go back to the past..
You know, time sometimes can be very tricky.
Have you ever see the opening scene in the movie when a boy bumps on a girl? The girl is holding some books and her books then fall down the floor. That boy bow to help the girl, taking her books and they stare at each other.
You know what, I have never asked to have a life full of drama, but that scene happens to me, for real. However, there is a slight difference. He is the one who has that papers.
I help him gathering all his papers and stand again. There he is, staring at me with his blue beautiful eyes.
"Francis"
And that is not awkward at all. I cannot believe on how easy we talk and laugh again. Just like the old times. I can feel that familiar warmth on my heart. I realize that it was very cold all these times. He says, it is very nice to hear again from me, we talk a lot. And apparently he would be in town for the next two months.
"I will go back to Brooklyn on April, so please come. I really am happy that you're doing well." He gives me one of his thick paper and smiles and leaves.
It is an invitation.
My eyes are burned. My heart beats twice than usual. That cold air covers my lung, chokes me up from the inside. I feel like I wanna throw up.
I thought I have moved on all this time, but this new detail stings a little bit.
I should have known that I just lied to myself before. How can you call yourself "move on" if you still consistently have that "what if" thought in your mind?
I am not fine and I just have to accept it.
I open my Facebook search and type the girl's name from the invitation. No, I cannot do it. My head is dizzy. I hope this is just a bad dream. I would wake up and everything will be fine. But it is a reality. The hurt is real. It stabs through your heart, stays there with its poison. It is inevitable.
I grab my pen and start writing from the very beginning. How I met him, how I loved him, how I finally could let him go. With a letter, I could just faking "move on".
"..and there is no bigger happiness in the world rather than by seeing you happy. Thank you for everything. Have a great wedding."
- Fiona Bradshaw
Yeah, that's all. I will send this, so I don't have to show up on his wedding. But I really need to see the bride's photos. So I re-open my browser. And there it is. A collection of their pre-wedding photos.
I scroll down that page, see all their photos, one by one. There he is, with that girI beside him. He looks very happy, like the luckiest man on earth, staring at his fiancee eyes, full of love. It is honest and sincere. It is the truth. She is the real one for him.
This is the end. I finally know the real answer to my "what if" question.
What if I say yes to his proposal?
I would be in the wrong marriage right now. I would suffer more than anything ever happen in my life.
But it didn't happen. I am here, I am strong. Someday I will find the right one, just like him.
I did it! I answer it. I know I would never ask that question again, ever.
It is solved now.
I see their photos again. I smile without realizing it. That big burden in my heart is finally lifted. I surprise on what I feel right now. Light and relieve.
This is the freeway, I can see it now.
I put down my pen.
I throw my letter to the trash.
Whatever, I'll go to that wedding!
--------------
"You wrote down all these things to say goodbye to. But so many of them are good things. Why not just say goodbye to the bad things? Say goodbye to all the times you felt lost. To all the times it was a no, instead of a yes. To all the scrapes and bruises. To all the heartache. Say goodbye to everything you really want to do for the last time."
- Lily Aldrin (HIMYM, 2014)
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