"Can I be honest with you?" you asked as you lit another cigarette.
"Go ahead." I said, not really sure if I liked what this conversation had morphed into.
You then proceeded to tell me about what happened to the recent girl you pursued but didn't work out. I laid there, trying to focus on the broken headboard, intensely picking at the wooden scabs so as not to cry. It hurt to hear your frustration over some girl you just met when you were never like that with me. I let you, because this is one of the rarest times you open up to me. And it's your birthday. And maybe in some weird, masochistic way, I wanna know, no matter how much it sucks for me.
"I don't know if it's because my ego got hurt or if I really love her." you said, when I asked why you're acting the way you are. You then asked me what love is; how it feels to be in love.
"We were together for a really long time, babe. In that span of time, you didn't love me? You didn't know what love is?" I asked in confusion. Because it really doesn't make any sense.
"I guess I loved you because you love me. I really don't know how to love. Or what love is."
I wasn't shocked with your answer. At least you were honest about that part. All along, I knew that you loved me because I loved you. But a part of me wished your answer would be different. I took a sharp breath before answering. What is love? I wondered. I tried to think of all the times I knew what I felt for you was real.
"You know you love someone when you see your future with them in it. Whenever you get a good news, they're the first person you wanna tell. Even the bad news. You just wanna be with that person all the time." I said, trying so hard not to choke on my words. I just described how I felt about you. Once again, the queen of nonchalance wore her heart on her sleeve.
And then you said, "So it's love? I think that's how I feel about her."
All the tears I tried so hard to hold back for 15 minutes, slowly rolled. I buried my face in my pillow, I don't like it when you see me cry. That's my thing. In all the years that we've been together, it's you who always cried freely. If we had this conversation years ago, I probably would have gone ballistic. Either that, or I'd shut myself down and stop talking to you completely just so I won't say mean, hurtful things.
Instead I kept my cool, shrugged it off like it was no big deal even though it actually is and said,
"Then maybe it is love."
You continue to tell me all about your frustrations. Apparently, she's the one who called the shots. It was never that way. You're the one who dumps people. I experienced that firsthand. But she changed your game. And that's what you can't believe: that someone rejected you. I suggested a lot of possibilities and we talked like we're friends, not exes.
I tried to comfort you, the way a good friend would. I told you things about love that I learned when we broke up: that there's always gonna be someone for all of us; that we're still young; and that scientifically speaking, we meet "the one" when we reach the age of 25-35. There's no rush.
I spoke of hope and love and faith the way I always imagine my future. Honestly speaking, it's what helped me ease the pain I felt from you when we broke up 4 months ago; the future possibility of finally getting the love that I deserve.
"You've changed, babe." you said. I smiled, because I know I did. Even I was surprised when I told you all those things. We continued to talk about life and love.
Until finally, we talked about us.
All the bullshit we hid from each other, all the lies and all the deceptions we made when we were together. We had our fair share of it, I must say. You said maybe she's your karma for all the pain you caused me and all the other girls before me. I laughed a little, cause I think so too. And I think maybe it's my karma too, for all the pain I caused you. We talked about our strengths, our weaknesses. We talked about how perfect everything will be for us if we could just find our perfect timing. I think we got together too young. But the chemistry is still there even after five years. And if there's anything I learned from watching a bunch of rom-coms, it's this: if you have chemistry, as strong and as compatible as what we have, all you need is one thing: timing. But timing is such a bitch sometimes.
We laid there, tangled underneath the sheets. Trying so damn hard to save what we can. Saving one another with each kiss, each touch. We're trying to save the only good thing left for us, making love without the love. We promise to take our time and that the next time we'll get back together, it will be for all the right reasons.
I have no idea what the future holds for us. If in the end, it's still us together. You showed me exactly who you are and instead of running away, my feelings never wavered. Not even for a bit. Call me crazy, call me a masochist, call me a fool.. But for me, your wrongdoings and faults are just that. It wasn't intentional, it's just the way you are. To me, you're a lost boy, trying so hard to figure out what love is.
And I want to help you get there. Even without absolute certainty, even without complete conviction that it's you and me in the end, I'm all in. It's the only way I know. I think one of the reasons why I keep coming back to you is that I feel like our relationship never lived its full potential. There are so many things we haven't had the pleasure of doing. So many things hindered us. So many fallbacks. And every time we try again, I wish we'd do it all.
But we never did.
Maybe that's why I'm stuck with all the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens.
If there's something I am certain of at the moment, it's this (and let me explain it in a language that I know you will understand): Whatever it is we are doing right now, all the waiting, all the suffering, all the forgiving and the forgetting.. it's a high risk, high reward kind of thing. If we get through this, all cards dealt and all truths spoken, I can only imagine how strong we'll be.
All we can do now, is wait.