a promise.

There’s a promise I have to make to myself. A promise I never wanted to make. But because the nature of this promise comes with a strange sense of finality, this post will be superbly long. Feel free to not read - it’s more for myself than anyone, really. But through the course of this post, I’ll probably go on a small journey. And I’ll end it when I feel enough closure to seal the promise. With that being said, I embark on said journey.

Being friends after a relationship is hard. I’ve seen way too many people try to be friends after a break up, but inevitably ignoring each other and drifting apart. For me, I was banking on the fact that we’ve been friends for almost four years now. It seemed like there was a lot more things important about us knowing each other than the romance. For that reason, I believed we could stay friends. And I think he sincerely wanted to as well. 

So we did. We still talked almost every day. Of course not with the level of closeness as before. But nevertheless, neither of us avoided the other. We were open to behaving just as friends would. We hung out and watched a movie. We talked on Skype when I needed his advice - and continued to talk and laugh just like friends do after I got my answers. We made each other laugh, telling our crazy stories. And with that, I could feel myself missing him less. 

But the reality of that situation was: I still loved him. And our friendship was only masking it. I could say I missed him less, but really - that was because I still had him. What’s there to miss if I still see him every day, talk to him, laugh with him? Even if the label isn’t there anymore, I was unknowingly constructing an illusory world around me. 

No one slapped me in the face about it. My friends must have sensed that my love was too strong to snap off. Also, some saw the friendship we had remaining as beautiful, and encouraged it rather than reveal the truth to me. They saw us as the exception, which I believed we were. They’d shower me with things like, “He still cares about you,” and “He still loves you,” and many similar things. It only fueled my fabrications. 

I was already starting to get the idea that I shouldn’t be feeling this way. That maybe it was time to start distancing myself so that we’d become more like acquaintances because if not for the summer apart of ‘10, I wouldn’t have gotten over him that first time. But I didn’t have the conviction to do it. I still believed we could make a friendship work. I either wanted to ride it out, or eventually distance myself when I felt comfortable to.

But he beat me to it. He had been feeling the same way. As much as me asking for a hug during midterm week was definitely a trigger, I can’t blame the loss of this friendship on my one blunder. Because these things are always buildups. Eventually I would have let my feelings show too obviously. And while I believe that I could get over him while still being friends, it would have taken a lot longer, and it would have required a lot more courage than I have. 

So he started avoiding me first. I took the hint, so half of me acted accordingly. But the other half still tried, prodded and poked, tried to fix the angling so he looked familiar again. He stayed fixated. Exasperated, I confronted him. The prospect scared me of course, but I almost always go through with making confrontations because I don’t believe in keeping words bottled up. Some confrontations that I have initiated with people may not have been necessary or appropriate, because they occur when I’m not in the right state of mind, but they still happened. This was a confrontation that I made of sound mind though.

The answer was not the one I wanted, of course, but it was the one I expected. “So I got your Facebook message. You’re right, I was purposely ignoring you. To be honest, I don’t think trying to be friends is a good idea right now. Maybe in a few months it would be, but not now. I don’t think you’ve fully accepted what happened, and I don’t think you will if we’re friends.” To others, he told them that he wanted to give me time to get over him. And there are other things that hint that he might need time to get over me too. 

I spent the next day barely looking at him, not saying a word to him. It was sad, but it wasn’t impossible. All week I had already been feeling the distance anyway. 

So I accept the situation. The implications of this can possibly come out to be quite harsh though. Right after the break up, of course memories of the relationship came up. But the past few days, I’ve been getting random flashbacks of when we were just friends and nothing more. Us fooling around in math class, becoming the pair of smartasses that the teacher despised but couldn’t help but love. Even back then, at 12 years old, he was a reason I looked forward to writing club. I thought he was one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met - and he still is.

But I know him so much more now. I know his eyes, his smile, his lips, his hands, his hair, his dimples. I know his frustrations, his stresses, his irritants, his hates. I know his interests, his passions, his goals, his motivators, his loves. I know his judgments, his thoughts, his mindsets, his rationalizations, his controls. I know his regrets, his promises, his hopes, his emotions, his warmth, his apologies. I know his justness, his morals, his beliefs, his standards. I know his soft spots, his guilty pleasures, his secrets, his hidden playlists, his wants, his desires. I know his flaws, his weaknesses, his fears, his coldness, his defenses, his mistakes. I know him like I’ve never known anyone, and to have been there to learn it, is something I’ll never regret. 

To help myself better understand how I could deal with this, I sought the help of someone I haven’t talked to in almost two years. I met up with Corey, who had finally just gotten over an 8-month-long relationship with Toucan that ended prior to the summer. She gave me more insight into the nature of their relationship. Of course there’s no step-by-step procedure. But knowing that she had been there, and that she got through it, comforted me. Plus, I just haven’t talked to her in such a long time, so it felt nice reconnecting with her.

I have yet to lose all hope that our friendship will not come to a complete end. I think that by the time junior year starts, I’ll be ready, and it’ll be a fresh new start for him and me. I can even see myself approaching him on the first day of school, in one of the classes we will most likely share, and saying, “Hey, how was your summer?” But I’m not going to set some sort of deadline for myself. It’ll happen when I’m ready. 

There were some interesting things she pointed out though. A movie she once watched said that in many serious relationships, the dumper actually takes longer to get over it than the dumpee. Because the dumper will always have second thoughts and regrets. It might not always be true, but it’s certainly something interesting to ponder. And I won’t dwell on that, analyzing the connotations it has regarding Sam. It’s something I’ll take with a grain of salt.

So anyway - where do I go from here? I’ve done little things already - removed him from my Facebook chat bar (as a consequence, I am forever offline to him, but if he really wanted to talk to me, there are other ways he can reach me), removed him from speed dial, removed from the “close friends” list on Facebook so that I don’t get constant notifications about his updates, found seats in front of him during class so that I won’t be tempted to look at him, etc. 

Which leads me to here. Tumblr. I will not delete anything I have of him, because I have never believed in deleting things. But there’s one thing I realized. Tumblr has become a safe haven for my feelings, which is, of course a good thing. However, pertaining to this particular set of feelings, it has cradled it and nurtured it. Every time I post a morning rant or something similar, I am not releasing the feelings, I’m only making them stronger. So my promise is this - to not make posts specifically pertaining to him anymore, not until I’m completely ready to bring him back. He might come up here or there, but I hope not to tag any new posts with his name. This decision comes with a “dooming sense of finality”, as Olivia calls it, but it’s one that I think will help me. 

By the time I’m able to completely get over him, even if our friendship does not return, I’ll be able to accept it either way. 

I’m going to revisit some old passions and possibly find some new ones. Piano has become a huge thing for me. Suddenly I’m able to sit there for two hours without even realizing it. I’m going to have to make sure I finish my homework before sitting down in front of the piano now, because time starts to fly. 

I’m also seriously considering joining track. I think improving my athletic abilities will do a lot for my self esteem, and just running in general does great things for my mindset. (I hope Olivia joins me in this. I think it’d be pretty beneficial for her as well~) 

As for my NaNoWriMo, I will take the time to fully edit it and write the epilogue. I’ll do that over midwinter break, and I want to finish it then. I’ll publish it, gift some copies, and keep one for myself. But I’ll resist the urge to look at it after that. Not until I’m ready to anyway. I don’t know when I’ll give him the copy I promised, or if I ever will, but maybe a long time from now, when I feel like we’ve both let go, I might give it to him. Not to open any old feelings, but merely because they’ll be nothing but nice memories by then. 

So that was a lot of loose ends that I felt needed to be explained. And I’ll slowly tie them all up in the course of the next few months. And I’ll heal - I know that. The first is the worst, but in a different sense, it’s also the best. There’s so much I learned, about the beginning, middle, and end of a relationship. And I couldn’t have chosen a more worthwhile person to have all those first experiences with. In a sense I think he feels this way too, but even if he doesn’t - that’s okay. 

For the first time in my life that I can clearly remember, maybe I’ll actually know how it feels to not like anyone. And maybe I’ll finally be able to put more focus on myself, like I’ve always wanted. That’ll be a worthwhile thing too. 

Wherever he goes, he will be great. He will continue to make mistakes, run and hide. But maybe he’ll learn how to find a strength in vulnerability. As for his future achievements, there is no doubt that he will succeed. Even if I’m not around to see it, I’ll know that he is somewhere he deserves. And I will succeed too. We are two driven people that could never leave this world without something to show for it. And it’s beautiful that for a period of time, two people passionately motivated by their own independence, could form an intertwining story together. 

So I end with this, a poem that I will now spontaneously write. Something about this moment deserves the elegance of poetry. 

we were oddly shaped human beings,
born into molds that we didn’t quite fit into.
most of our contours could be outlined by a stencil,
but always there would be lines jutting out.
we were not confined by our labels;
we made something different of ourselves.
and so these two self-reliant misfits
slipped into each other’s lives one day.

we had quirks and we had laughter.
we were partners in crime.
we were stand outs, role models.
we had a connection through culture,
through the craft of the english language.

we were jostled and bumped,
forced to collide.
but the smashing of bones didn’t hurt;
rather, I slipped into the crevices of your embrace.
this was new, for me and even more so you.
we were frightened and fascinated,
pushing and pulling.

as tensions grew,
we no longer interlocked.
bone hit against bone,
in a fateful twist of desires. 

soon the illusory confusion ceased,
as you gave your final push.
the months of yearning and attachment simmered down
to simple summer dances and infrequent encounters.

time didn’t fly, it rolled.
as if directed by a rom-com writer,
you occasionally poked your head out
from my reservoir of memories.
your seemingly inappropriate comments
were always welcome.

in darkness, you brought me
the unexpected light of truth.
I held no grudge,
but forgiveness felt purer now.
something stirred,
but remained hastily forgotten. 

as quickly as first passions flew,
the flames grew again.
this time I stood close to the fire, 
unafraid of its burning touch.
diving headfirst into the mess,
I was driven by gut. 

we danced with the flames,
a whirlwind of summer heat.
things felt familiar, close to heart,
yet refreshing and new.

connections naturally formed,
based on liberty and trust.
our strangely shaped bodies,
fit together once more.
my soft lips met yours,
in a whole new dimension.
this beating heart of mine,
started feeling yours in sync.

but the cold set in,
chilling love over.
weak hydrogen bonds snapped first,
and I frantically sought to prevent
a deterioration of ionic and beyond.
but too late, ions dissociated.
we agreed to preserve covalence,
the one built on years of simple smiles.

now denaturation does what it does best,
severing the string with threatening finality.
however, the evils of pandora’s box
left humanity with one shining star:
hope.
for love or acceptance or otherwise.

it is the power of the future. 

Conviction. Strength. Courage.