ticking the days off to the beginning of skl, i realize i haven’t been as writing as much as i’ve done last summer.
periodically, ideas have come to my mind but none of them have been compelling enough for me to use an hour of my life and write an entry.
tonight, i finally have one. or maybe its just because i’ve just read sixty pages of the great gatsby and felt the urge to pretend to be a writer.
“there i walked beside her, as her friend. upon the water, reflection of the buildings where a few windows were still found blazen with light. around us, dark suits and flashy skirts flashed around me and her who were inappropriately dressed in jeans and t-shirt.
during conversations, we would gaze into each other’s eyes. i would not laugh at her jokes and listen to her lame comments. at moments, our conversation was cut by an inappropriate joke, lame comment.
despite all the awkwardness and unfamalility, it was the most inimate that two people could ever be, being able to expose all their vices and vulnerability to each other. but the line was so thin. i could have turned around and kissed her.
but it would be all different. it would not be the same. all the candicy, all the jokes about future relationships, the talks about hot guys/girls would result to nothing.the mentals walls that we had carefully desconstructed would rebuilt by themselves against our wishes. once you crossed the line, you will never be able to go back.
relationships worsen everything. relationships create expectations. from imperfect people, they try to draw portraits of them which are to be hung in great halls for centuries. there’s no mention ever again of hot guys and girls or quirky odd idiosyncrasies or stupid acts. there is an urge to immortalize yourself in a way that you evangelize yourself.
i like her but in a manner that i am conscious and fearful of the changes that a relationship would bring. i love the candicy, the dissing, the whole “if it doesn’t work,it’s ok” attitude because that is the reason why it is so intimate. the lack of an expectation or a promise or an unwritten contract allows two people to be able to open their hearts wide open and let everything flow out.
this is not Made of Honor. there is no happy ending. i’ve been down the other road when i came to forked road. this time, i want to choose the other one”