That Is Love Isn't It Diary?

Dear Diary,

Here I am in Subang Jaya spending my last days in the house I called my sanctuary. I am giving up this house finally after trying hard to keep it. I soothe myself by believing that giving up doesn't always mean you are weak; sometimes it means that you are strong enough to let go. Most of my personal belongings have been moved to Tangkak and what is left in this house are just empty furniture and memories I once created. The rooms are mostly empty like my heart, hollow and broken. It is not about loneliness. It is about leaving the place and people I feel so comfortable with. All my thoughts just seem to settle on one person and she is Flying Babe for the reason that sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated. 

I met her on Sunday and the moment I saw her after all those times I kept my silent, I knew it is still love I feel for her. In her presence I can feel the magic floating in the air, being with her gets me that way. I swear I have never felt swept away with love that way. That is love isn’t it Diary? If it is not love, tell me what it is. In a way, I know my heart is waking up to what I have been missing all these times. Is it a little too late now? I am leaving this place that brought me to her and just as I am leaving, I finally found the courage to meet her.

Many times, I would just play with the figures and facts about her well being, putting my own assumptions to fix the puzzles I have about her. I wanted to know how she is but I was too afraid to be bold with her. It has never been easy for me. It is just a shame for me to wake up this late. I wish I had woken up earlier to realize what I had to do to fix my broken heart or rather to fix hers. Sometimes I wish I were a little kid again because skinned knees are easier to fix than broken hearts. I had a major nervous breakdown the minute she entered my car. I froze in silence and I could feel the sweat in my palms in her presence. She is a woman who is so fine in my eyes and such a dear to my heart. I swear I would do anything for this woman. There is no need for words right now because it would be describing something that is beyond descriptions. That is love isn’t it Diary?

She did not have any make up on her face because it was never necessary for her. She has this natural beauty that can launch thousands of ships. I brought her back down the memory lane where I first met her, somewhere only both of us know where I first fell in love with her and where she stole the key to my heart. Diary, can you feel the love I feel for this woman? It is as strong as a diamond that it hardly breaks. Now, I do not even know if I would survive if she has found a new love. I did not ask neither did she ask me. I supposed both of us were enveloped with certain frenzy of excitement accompanied with nerve wrecking sentiments. That is love isn’t it Diary?

I was overwhelmed with so many emotions that I can hardly breathe. Looking in her eyes I see many memories of us, I never realized how happy she made me. Diary, if my heart could speak as loudly as how my mouth speaks, I swear I would have told her straight in her face that I still have so much love for her. How I wanted to tell her that I spent nights crying I got choked with my own tears. I wanted to tell her that I am still drowning in her love. How I have longed to hear her sweet voice, to feel the softness of her skin and to hold her in my arms again. I wanted her to know since the day I left, I have been walking, working, barely breathing, my thoughts; far away, heart aching, mind racing and sleep did not come easily, nor last long. I got lost in her heart, lost in her eyes, lost every day, no map to follow entire days, weeks, a blur flickers of light, in the darkness, only to be enveloped in shadows once more. There she was with me and I couldn’t spit out the words. That is love isn’t it Diary?

I feel so much for her that I could only afford to pray silently for her. I wish I could do more but I couldn’t. I sent her back and when we got to her house, memories brought me back to the time I sent her home after our very first date. This time, happiness did not embrace me, instead I felt sad because I knew I will not be able to see her again. I am not sure when I am coming back. All I knew I could be leaving Subang Jaya and all the love I have here for an indefinite time.

I did not look her in the eyes when she got out of the car as I knew I would break down and cry if it were to happen. I did not even look at her while she looked at me before she left. I wish I were strong enough to hold her hands and do something good to be remembered. I wanted the meeting to have a happy ending but how could that happen when all I could do was cry. My heart has yearned for her for so many days and when she was there I stumbled and fall, suffocated on my own passion. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. The joy of meeting pays the pangs of absence. The best things said come last.  People will talk for hours saying nothing much and then linger at the door with words that come with a rush from the heart.

I never stopped writing to her since I met her. I spent my days writing her letters with stories. Someone to tell it to is one of the fundamental needs of human beings. I wanted to keep her company even if I couldn’t be there for her at least I make my presence felt in the form of writing because that is what I do best. I know she enjoys reading my letters. She has said it many times. When we met she told me her stories and wishes. I listened and how I wished I could be a part of it all or at least make it happen for her. This love I have for her has not died nor withered. Sometimes I ask myself when I will stop. I do not know but I have promised myself that I will keep on writing until the day she asks me to stop. I am not going to be tired of chafing my heart against the want of her; of squeezing it into little ink drops and posting it. That is love isn’t it Diary?

People would probably think that I am actually in love with the idea of loving her but not having her. I talk so much about her to you without telling that I am going to make her mine again. How could I when I am in difficult situations; lost without hope. Who can deny that love is an ocean of emotions entirely surrounded by expenses? The circumstances that I am facing are probably the biggest obstacles I have to face. It is not easy to leave like this. If I could do a miracle, that would be to fix my circumstances but I can’t. Every road that I have taken led to where I am now and I do not even know if I am going to make it. If I could put your hand on my chest, you could probably feel that my heart is breaking bits by bits into small pieces that you can never put together back. This is love Diary and it hurts so much to love like this. Where I used to be, there is a hole which I find myself constantly walking in the daytime and falling in at night. There used to be a light shining on me to guide me on the path but it is long gone now.

Diary, someone once told me that I will eventually have somebody soon coming my way to shine that light again. How can it be when I am not opening my heart to anybody else? It is closed, shut tightly. I have tried but if it is her all I think about, teach me how to love again. I know sadness flies on the wings of time and out of the heart of darkness comes the light. I spent all my time waiting for that second chance at times I find some reasons to make up for all the things that I lack. I feel inadequate, hopeless to love like this. I will most likely remain single for as long as it takes because as much as I cannot force things to go back to the way they were, I cannot force myself to stop loving her. Perhaps someone else might come along the way and steals my heart after all the past is behind us, love is in front and all around us, what are we worth without love anyway?