flashback

I opened my eyes and thought of you. I thought of the way you used to look at me, with such kind eyes.

The room seems eerily white, lit only by the bluish glow of my laptop screen. My vision is really clear. I’m wide awake, eyes open. I can see the lines of the walls and ceiling perfectly. This feels like a different place. In Chinese, I think "I understand." I never think in Chinese. Wow.

Once you’ve experienced a moment of real love, everything else seems so coarse. My made-up misery over silly crushes, my self-indulgent melancholy, my fantasies, what are they when compared to our best moments, or our worst? They seem so vulgar to me right now. Is this the real me? Or, am I just trying out another type of sadness?

I can’t even answer my own questions.

It occurs to me that I may not even be capable of the kind of love required for a real relationship. I always seem to be inches away. I can imagine what it'd feel like, but I can't feel it: a door opens a bit, just enough to let the light in, but never enough to see what's on the other side.

Most of all I feel sorry that such random bounces of life, silly missteps here and there can ruin something that could have been so beautiful. Can I learn not to take everything so seriously? To let things slide? To see the bigger picture? Is this the making of a sucker? Or a tolerant, normal functioning human being who realizes that life isn’t perfect and that you have to roll with the punches? I wonder.

I wish I had pictures of you on my laptop. I miss you sometimes. I really do. I have to admit I don’t think about you much now. I try not to, because it’s very easy for me to dwell. I have a long memory (you know this) and I am trying to move on, because I know you are and I know that realistically, it will never be what we would have liked to become.