Dearest M,
How is your recent life in Idaho? And why are you not texting me? Do you enjoy your trips on that other side of the world?
So. In the next days of our lives, we shall spend in silence? Like minding ourselves be sucked in our respective worlds, watching our own interests in a nook called a mobile phone? What about the conversations that we used to have? When I tried to engage in sharing my stories, you just dismiss it with a humorless jest, and making it repetitive, a routine unconscientiously performed after days—fuck it, months—of absence?
It feels convoluted, meeting this person.
Does this mean that I learn to settle in this dynamic that bears no joy, not even a high, “for now”?
Intellectualize this: Were you an absent partner on your previous marriage, resulting to a third party you caught in the act? If yes, most likely, your history will repeat itself. You are now on the brink of reprising the role your absent father did to your mother.
And its absence lingered on this timeline.
I miss you.
I am sorry for being this destructive and resentful. It is tough managing an avoidant.
I love you.
But sometimes, I do not love you because of what we have now.
“Out of sight, out of mind.”
And I do not want to hate myself for it. I guess this is how our love works, right?
Sometimes, the kilig comes as a huge tsunami wave whenever you come home and we share the silent space together, and yet, sometimes I am resenting that same silence whenever we independently face our own struggles.
I think this is our kind of love, right? And after all these years, I am still navigating this with sonder and wonder that maybe our storyline is not as unique as the others. Maybe, we have that sentiment that is transcendent, like the novels that we read.
Maybe at the end of the day, loving is about choosing.
And even though moments hurt and memories fade, I choose you.
Break or no break,
E.
Poetics: Actual submission to the JFF25 contest in facebook page. I hope to win free tickets or anything. If I don’t win, meh, then you see my thought process in my current struggle of not seeing my date in the last five months of our lives.
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