Love For People
(Forever Lover. With your alzheimer’s, you may have had forgotten already. It was our inside joke. Or was it not? I am confused. My whole life is.)
I have a record of us. In my head. And I play it from time to time, the recorded memories. All the funny things, our intense conversations about your work and my study, even about your family and my friends, and mostly about random things that aren’t really random. We’ve been talking for nearly five months now, but our memories in flesh were a cluster worth of just barely a month. It was short but intense, as you said. I remember you, not everywhere, but in many places. I remember you in the details of the rooftops. I remember you in the textures of the old buildings. I remember you in the graffitis of the street walls. I remember you in the perfectly misplaced lantern lights in an urban place. I remember you in the antique doors and door knobs. I remember you in the indie musics and LED lit trucks.
It makes me sigh heavily from time to time. I want to relive our memories. And sometimes I do, try at least. I make the same facial expressions and smiles and laughters when I rewind the records. There were times that I listen to your voice messages again. I literally laugh to myself. Call me crazy, but it works. It is as if you were here with me. Or more precisely, I am there with you. In our spot. A cozy table with the poster of the “amazing” man pasted on a wooden wall. With the locals on our side asking where we’re from, how we’ve met. And you flashing them with the biggest lie with your fake accent, while of course drinking most of the second bottle of my beer.
And sometimes I go beyond the past. I go beyond what happened. I go to a memory that never actually occurred. And every time I do, I see us building an empire, owning the world. That is how far I went. And this fabricated memory actually first flashed on the first nights we met. This is not an exaggeration. I did see it as if it were true. Seeing the dynamics of our personalities, your artistry, curiosity and valiance, coupled with my faith, resolute fire and focus, building an empire is not impossible. And maybe, just maybe, you have seen it too. You have already uttered the words. And I said it back. I don’t know how it was for you. To me, I really did like you. But, I know what was coming. Time. Distance. Now, the empire is only a memory yet to be imagined.
No, no. I do not love you. I have never been in love with you. But I could have had. I am fond of you already. Very. You inspire me in levels you may never know. Without you even trying, you had driven to edge my desire to indulge deeper in this artistic endeavor. To unknown heights, you raised my excitement and my awareness to the world, in its details and the littlest things. And yet no, this is not a love letter. This is an unfinished letter to the man who had reignited my soul. And I do not plan to ever finish it. Because I do not want this to end. But it is inevitable, isn’t it?
I am still aching though, but not for the what-could-have-beens. I am still aching, but not for the regrets of leaving our mystical place. I am still aching, only because it was so painfully surreal with you. A perfect mix of humble ground and emanating glory. A mix I wouldn’t mind coming home to. The sarcasmic afternoons and evernings, over noodles and beers, over soybeans and pancakes, over broken tripod and pineapple cakes, over indie musics and mochis. I am aching for all the good memories. And for the Time. And for the Distance.
I have come to understand what your place in my life is. Not to make me ache, but to make me realize that there is a “something”, a “feeling” greater than the love I have already felt before. A love that caused me a heartbreak I thought I’d never recover from. Connecting with you made me realize that the world is so, so wide. And that I deserve to move on and to move forward into its depths, over its distance. For one and a half years, I had believed in an illusion that the greatness of the love I had felt before was The Ultimate. So, thank you for passing by in my lifetime. For curing something I thought was incurable. And thank you, for somehow staying. Virtually. Sharing pieces of your life in another hole of this busy world. Bugging me from time to time. Playing your favorite sports – annoying me and showing off your skills.
Just so you know, you were one of my most beautiful experiences in Tainan.
Thank you, “cool” French Kid. And see you soon. Someday. Somewhere.
I hid this from you (at first). But once you read this, I know you will realize that I have written this for you.
I just want to let the words out and make the world own it and take it away from me. And as much as I wanted you to take these words away from me now, I still do not have the heart to spill the truth to you. Not today, at least. We are somewhat good friends. And I intend for us to stay not any lesser than that. Over time, over distance.
I am leaving this letter open here in this site though. Leaving a crack to the system for you to read this in your own time (or not). Days from now? Months? Years? Who knows? You said we were fated. Indeed, I met you in the right place and in the right time. Now let us see in what way this fate will bring this letter to you.
P.S. Funny what triggered me to even start writing about you:
I told you. I remember you in the details of the rooftops.