Wednesday, December 14, 2011

A story - revised.

A failed love story; but still every bit worthy to be told just as your successful ones~


If there's one thing that I've kept with me, something that I've always desired and wanted, throughout the years of growing up; is my hopeful naiveté of finding that one true love. For me, 'love' is a privilege everyone has a right to have, but not always smart enough to cherish, because love has a way of being taken for granted: the four lettered word with all its' complexities, its' tremendous influence - that has bitten and befallen each and every one of us. Some might have not felt love in their lives, but I can honestly say, they have yet to find it. All it takes, is a little hope, a bit of faith, an open heart and the courage of letting someone in.

One thing I've learned though, is that during the early years of my life -- my brainwashed perspective of love used to be so simple, so beautiful and well-- I blame Disney for that; I thought that if you loved someone enough, you'll get through any obstacles that come your way and if you sincerely put your heart on your sleeve there's a definite chance your love would be reciprocated. But how true does this statement ring, do you think? Well, it's a delightful lie society shoved down my throat in my years of adolescence. Something that I had to learn the hard way of course, but let's not get ahead of my story...

I was in my early teens-- a blossoming beauty, so inexperienced in matters of love; the times of experience was through movies, read it through books and such -- this lack of experience was what caused my confusion of love with the shallow flattery that the opposite sex would throw at my feet. Sweet words of countless boys back then did me no good, it poisoned my sense of sensibility. Little did I know, when I began to venture into the world of romance at the time, I was actually making a mockery of the word 'love', all the relationships I had then were nothing but empty flings one after the other. I suppose that's when everyone's childish tendencies towards love would start-- mine was exceptionally more childish because I went through boyfriends like they were no more than toys I purchased off of the stores' shelves.

I was insipid, reckless and fickle. A part of me wishes that particular past of mine never existed, I besmirched my own expectations of what love should be. Although, the only good that came out of it was that I found that it helped me differentiate between what was merely a temporary high and a grounding revelation of emotions.The thing about love, is that it can be found at the oddest of places, happens at the most unexpected of times and it can affect even the best of us. It's crazy how you would go out of your way to make that other person happy, how much of yourself would somehow change and grow into wanting to be better for that other person.

It was only in college that I realised nothing great or profound would come out of anything so short-term and superficial because anything that came out of such things was only short-lived and it left me feeling like shit most of the time. It used to make me think I was desirable the fact that I could barely remember how many boyfriends I've had. It was not that I was easy, getting me to fall for you was hard, but getting me to lose all feelings for you was so much easier on my part.

So, I remember thinking about all my past relationships with the guys in my life and wondering if any of them ever meant anything. The big question I've now asked myself, that no one can seem to answer in a quantitative, easily understandable, logical answer is: "How do you know if he's the one?" That one person that can make all the wrongs seem so right, who -- like in the movies -- would stand by you through anything; come hell or high waters, that one person would still love you unconditionally.

Just when I thought love was a guise men made up to get women to sleep with them in our hopeless pursuit of wanting to have a taste of that sweet wholesome love; I got a little morsel of it- a serving of something more long-term, real and worthy of being deemed as 'love'. The first of many before him, he was the guy that I truly loved and cared for, so naturally, I sought out to give him the best of me, he was enough, satisfying and most importantly, he was mine. I did anything and everything for him... I defended his integrity, supported his dreams and shared all his burden. Not once did I want anyone else, he was the perfect imperfection that I could live with and the sweet sincerity that I couldn't live without.................. or so I thought.

As a couple we had our problems of course, but then... I was blind. I couldn't see that promises were being broken, too hurtful words were being said and inconsiderate actions were being done. I was mistreated, but I didn't see it at the time, because I believed in every single assuring word he softly said in my ear. I believed it every single time when he said I was his future; the only one in his heart and that no one came close to competing with me. I was his girl, his only choice.

It could have been the distance between us or the dwindling passion that used to consume us, but it was there, like a sore thumb that stuck out -- after a while it was all too much, the air about us became uneasy; it was a painful reminder of the inevitable...I felt him slowly slipping away, he began to act disinterested all too suddenly and all too much. I feared of losing him completely to the world around us -- I would rather fight for what I believe could last, rather than admit that it was hopeless to fight a losing battle. It wasn't me to just let it be, but I was entertaining what seemed to be an act of stupidity. I openly showed my insecurities in the hopes of wanting to be assured and consoled. He did nothing of the sort, he only waved it aside as one of my antics to get his attention. That should have been sign enough, you'd think? But no...

I still thought nothing of it. I shoved those negative thoughts away, maybe I was just imagining things, I made excuses for him to make myself feel better. Pathetic! At times when I vented my frustration out in the open, he would get mad, so I held it in almost to the brink of being broken. Weak! I truly was in denial and too hopeful in thinking that he would revert back to his old self. The truth of the matter is, I had lost him a while back. I lost him to temptation, a temptation in the form an unscrupulous little slut who preyed on him despite knowing he was taken. But hey, it takes two to tango-- and he sure as hell didn't hesitate to dance to the sounds of infidelity.

It crushed me when the truth got out. I was helpless and weak... I detested him and more than anything I detested myself for letting him be the reason why I began to run my mouth off his shortcomings... I drank my sorrows away, let myself go a little too much, I was out of control and a mess. All the while when I was mourning (in my own crazy way) of our loss of what was (to me) a beautiful love, he was already starting to fall for someone else. Yes, this is how it looks when a love fails... But later I learned that the only one to blame is the one who changed, which was him... I stayed faithful and honest, because I saw what could have been if he had only tried hard enough, he would have himself a great woman by his side.

It's never easy for anyone to have found their love and then losing it to someone else. It's also hard when you try forgetting about them, because it has become a habit for those in love to associate things with their source of happiness, who knew that those same memories of association could turn painfully bitter. It breaks my heart every time I take a whiff of his familiar scent, my throat tightens when I take a familiar road that leads to a place that held our memories, my heart aches whenever I see traces of our relationship in the places we've been to and to the places we had plan on going to.

Recently, I've asked myself, time and time again; is love really worth the pain? Honestly, it's courageous of anyone to take the risk, you might either be plunging to your death by baring your soul to another person like that only on the slightest hopeful assumption that he feels the same way OR you could have probably made the best investment of a lifetime; a guy who is, in every way a physical, emotional and spiritual fulfillment that can do nothing but good to your existence.

After all that has happened, I still wish to love. Naïve, stupid or stubborn, I don't know which I am exactly~ Though sometimes, it's best to focus on other things other than your broken heart. For me, I look to a friend to get my mind distracted and when I talk to him even for a bit, I find myself smiling. I don't think it's because I've fallen for him; but I know for sure that he's a great reminder of a guy who can be a man about facing things with a mature air about him. I would want a guy like that one day. Never ever stop wanting to feel in love. One can always take a break... but never ever stop. I know I'm not ready to commit any time soon, but it's vital I keep an open mind (or rather, an open heart).

Despite everything that has happened, no matter how much it hurts and how long the pain lasts... I'm glad that I can still feel. Maybe one day, I'll find him, the true love of my life, not some cheap knock off, made in China.









 © Anyss Suhaimi .  

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