To My Next One

My Symphony: Amsterdam by Coldplay 

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(photo source)

There you are. Wiping the sweat off your forehead after another long and torturous day of wondering where I am.

There you are, just sitting there with your signature poker face. You are holding that Humans of New York book that you’ve read from cover to cover for about seven times now. In front of you is a wine glass full of orange juice. You’re not gonna be getting drunk tonight. You’re not gonna be in the club dancing with sixty other strangers and contemplating each soul that’s potentially breathing inside every person in that room whom you find cute. Because tonight, you’re staying in and cooking your own dinner. Tonight, only for tonight, there is no time for any interaction aside from that which you are having with yourself. You’ve decided to just sit there, in front of your overcooked salmon and lukewarm orange juice, and think.

So there you are. Thinking. Not the kind of thinking that you normally do when you answer your major exams, or the thinking that’s required in planning those summer vacations you go to with your friends in spring; it is rather the thinking that you do when you think about love.

There you are. Beautiful as the sunrise. I don’t even understand how someone can be as stunning as you are. I mean I didn’t even know it was possible, but there you are – a breathing, shining proof that somewhere out there lives a higher power. Something that is way larger than any of us earthlings can imagine; something that’s ethereal, superhuman.

There you are. You have said you’ve been single your whole life because none of your past relationships seemed right. There are days when you wonder what love feels like, looks like, smells like. Does it feel the same way the palm trees feel the ocean-catapulted breeze? Does it look like the view of the city from the rooftop of your apartment building? Does it smell anything like green tea and vanilla extract? You do not know. But you wish you did.

There you are. You have gone to at least eight different countries by the age of twenty-four. What are you looking for out there? Nothing, maybe. Maybe you’re just sort of walking around this entire time, subconsciously hoping to finally bump into me. You have spent a significant amount of time with your friends. And they’ve been really good friends to you. They’ve laughed at your jokes, smiled at your happiness and waved at your moments of randomness. They’ve been with you on all those long walks, all those food trips, concerts, live theater performances and sometimes even on Valentine’s Day. And tonight is no different. They’re still the ones that fill your phone inbox. They’re still the ones that flood your Facebook timeline. They’re still the ones that witness your life as it unfolds dramatically. The only difference is that tonight, the unsatisfied longing for the presence of that one person – that one person whom you will love with all your heart – has definitely hit the deadline. You want love, just as much as I do. But the universe has had a funny way of creating two like-minded individuals who are a perfect match, and then putting them so far away from each other.

There you are. Where have you been? It’s actually quite funny. I’m impatiently asking you this when you have every right to ask me the same question. So where have been?

I’ve been here. Not sitting like you are right now, but floating. I’ve been dreaming a lot and sleeping a lot. I’ve been here and there, and I’ve looked for you too many times in too many places. I’ve been in this dozy tourist village that is my bedroom just writing about you, reading about you and thinking about you.

And now here I am. Jaded after all the rollercoaster rides in my life so far. I am bruised and scarred but smiling. Just like you, I had spent the whole day somehow hoping that our paths would finally cross.

Here I am, visualizing the numerous awesome moments we will be making.

Inside my head, here we are. I’ve never felt this special with anyone in my life. I adore the dimples that form on your cheeks each time I smile at you. I adore that. I adore the fact that I can be certain you will always smile back. Because when you smile, your eyes somehow disappear but your joy doesn’t. And I adore that. I adore that we can be foolish and intelligent with each other without having to apologize for anything. I adore that we are so the same yet so different. I adore that you like dogs, Katy Perry and dim lighting. I adore that everytime the wind brushes through your hair, it dances just enough to create the illusion of us hovering above the ground. And everytime I hold your hand, I adore that it fits perfectly. When you’re far away and I see you, it doesn’t take you long to see me; we don’t yell or wave, and sometimes we don’t even smile – we just look at each other as we approach the center point. There’s all this percolating love and passion underneath the calmness. I adore that. I adore that because all those years of trials and errors have led the two of us to this point. And there’s so much inside of us that we can just explode at any given second. But I adore that. I adore the idea that we are now standing face to face like two active volcanoes ready to erupt. And I adore that the eruption would be an eruption of love.

But here I am. And there you are. No amount of thinking and visualizing can realistically put us right next to each other any time soon.

I like to believe that you are out there, Next One. And if you are, I hope that at the very right moment, you will finish that orange juice of yours and take a walk along the beach.

I will be there. And I swear, you will be the Last One.

The Cherries Within Us

My Tune: Not For All The Love in The World by The Thrills

It’s just so funny that everytime I search about cherries, the images that appear are that of cherries which come in pairs.

There’s something strange and beautiful about the way they come in pairs, though. I mean, there’s really something about the physical appearance of cherries and the way they taste just as sweet as anything which I can’t actually describe that sends me a little message. I don’t know why this is, but everytime I search for photographs of apples, bananas, oranges, lemons or even grapes, the images that appear are simply flat, and by “flat” I mean they don’t seem to make me feel like the way I do everytime I see pictures of pairs of cherries.

What’s interesting is that I believe I have finally discovered what’s behind this yet another scrutiny of mine.

People, especially those who take really generous grips on their pride, always tend to say that they don’t need other people to make them happy. These stereotypical beings wear fake smiles as they tell others how they “don’t need a man to make it happen”, or how they “don’t need girls to be happy”. They say that they can never trust anyone in this modern-day world; that they can’t and won’t trust anyone apart from themselves and themselves alone. In fact, majority of the less-experienced teenagers who have undergone ugly relationships with a friend, a partner or a foe always desperately tries to cope up by saying silly and unbelievable things like “From now on, I’m going to be happy just by myself”, or “I will be a nun!”, or even “Pfft. I don’t need guys! I’ll go shop tomorrow”. See? Just take a glimpse at how typical teenagers are becoming lately.

According to an article about teenage life and crises which I have recently read here in the net, saying the above statements or even just blurting them usually takes place as a coping mechanism which is essential as defense acts of humans. Thus, practicing such activity is basically normal. Yes, it is normal. But who says it can go on forever? No, it can’t and it shouldn’t. This is simply because I now know how it feels when you’re not trusting somebody…

For the most part of my ongoing life, I grew up finding it hard to trust other people around me. This is mainly because those whom I trusted so well in the previous chapter of my life broke the one thing which I really rarely give— trust.

I had friends who scattered scuttlebutts around the hallways of my alma mater like they were just distributing some fancy greeting cards and sticky pads. Well, I am sure those were greeting cards of pure rumors and sticky stupidities that lame people partake (don’t worry, poeple. I’ll be talking more about my “media life” next time, ’cause that’s another long story to tell). The truth of the matter is that it was even rumored that I take drugs… that I am an obsessed drug addict. Wow. Well, the good news is, I have grown up outgrowing gruesome gossips and blue baloneys along my way.

My point here is, trust is something which is even more sacred than love itself. When we trust, everything else just follows.

What’s ironic is that there are just other indifferent people who actually say that they can live without trusting someone or being with someone.

We are but pieces of cherries, my dear peers. Pieces of cherries which are subconsciously looking for their other pairs. Alone, it is plainly boring and flat… monotonous. But by the time we finally found the one person we can trust ultimately, and when we are actually standing right next to our respective pairs, we’ll just realize how great it is to have someone whom you can trust, love… be with.

Indeed, we are but pieces of lonely, but sweet, cherries… always subconsciously looking for their pairs.