Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Le Batalieur

I thought I was more cynical, more cautious, and more critical when it comes to this thing.

That's how I want to see myself, anyway. After my former experience, I swore that I will not entertain any thoughts about garden flowers, porcelain teacups, curtained mornings, fresh parks, long lunches and late dinners involving a specific person less I am ready to tackle the bittersweet, worldwide battle of staying together my parents are participating for more than two decades. The tryst I had made my armor brittle, cold, and weak. I just wanted someone to fight for me in the same way I would fight to death for him. However, the one I expected to hold my hand at least until midway stroke me at the back and left me dying when we had not yet even entered the white, iron gates then. 

I suppose one would say that I should try again. After all, I only had one experience of an almost, and another of an unrequited infatuation (the possibility of entering the battle with me never occurred to him). They were not so bad, isn't it? I suppose I should test the waters again and fish for a funky piranha or something. Maybe I'll get a seahorse, if I am lucky. 

But not everyone in this world has that amazing speed of recovery. My college friends call me the "recap girl", because they said I was the only one in our Comm class who has the "ability" to capture the highlights and memorable moments of the past meetings. You see, for one to be an effective recapper, he has to relive the memoir a few times, maybe even more, depending on how real everything felt again. I am the type of person who reminisces the "what-happened's" too much and feels much deeply every time. I overthink and I travel back too often. These qualities make me the perfect person for the job.

Now, I heard somewhere that an ability can turn into a liability. I can't agree more. My recapping skills extraordinaire has rendered me to be clingy to the past. It is hard to move on. 

So where do you fit in this mess?

You just might be the one; the one who can help me forget. The one I can create new memories with without having the fear of resenting them. That person who can set me free. 

Because it's you, I might try again. 

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