As of right now, I'm listening to the song, "by your side" by Sade. We had listened to this song while we drove around the mountains and valleys of San Gregory one long night, do you remember? I distinctive remember your hand on mine and I remember feeling so warm then. It felt like I was finally safe, like I had finally found someone I can lean on, only that this someone will lean on me, when he needs my strength. Someone who could care for me the way I care for them. That you saw the good in me, just as I saw the good in you.
It's been 18 months since I've allowed myself to listen to this song. Because every time I listen to it, the memories of that and every night we've shared comes back and I want to cry. I want to cry so hard that I can cry all the memories out of me. So that I wouldn't have to long for you the way that I do. I want to cry for what we had, for what we could have now and for what I wish we could have in the future: Nice house in the suburbs, a small SUV or two (Since those seem to be less oil guzzling. But, I could be wrong about that.), a pack of German shepherds and Shih Tzu puppies and most importantly, each other. You with your technophile gadgets and me with my pack rat tendencies. We could live comfortably, if not messily. Heh. I can imagine us getting into silly arguments about trash day and puppy training. Romantic dates involving the ocean and picnics on our anniversaries and if we get lucky enough, children. You would make a great father, I think. Once you're ready, that is.
For the past 18 months, I've been asking myself one central question: Did I do something wrong, or not good enough, when we were together? See, I couldn't figure why we had ever broken up. Because in my eyes, you were perfect then. And you're still perfect now. But, I know that this may not be true, as I tend to see only who you could be, not who you are. I know that when it comes to you, I am essentially blind if I don't suppress my own emotions with logic. After our talk the other night, I had not only figured out that it wasn't so much my fault, but I had figured out why I love you so: You remind me of me. Age-wise and professionally, you're my big brother, yet something about you makes you so innocent and vulnerable that all I want to do is protect you. You're an artist, yet you have a sense of technical and philosophical wisdom about you. The affectionate attitudes towards all and everyone you liked. Everything about you complimented parts of me, right down to our flaws: Our high self-esteem paired conflicting low self-confidence. Our insecurities regarding loyalty. Our self doubts. And most importantly, our condition of being in love with love. In my eyes, our lights and our darkness all matched each other so perfectly.
I'm happy that we're finally speaking again. I don't know why, but a part of me says that you need me. You need a friend. Yet, for me, it takes me a lot to be your friend. I try to ignore all my own opinions and bias when I speak to you, because that's the only way I can be a friend. Otherwise, whenever I hear about your hook-up and your other relationships, it cuts into a part of me that wish you were mine, because I love you. I love the way you smell. I love the way you would lick your CDs to clean them. I love the way you would get annoyed at the top button of your shirt because it wouldn't button, then get slightly pouty when you accidentally break the button off. I love the way you would pounce on your dog, Brock and wrestle with him, as you cooed "who's my baby?" at him. I love the way you would dove under your covers after a shower, just to be a cute lazy bum and to keep warm. My God, I don't know how many things I love about you. And it's hard to let you go.... To just be a friend.
Actually, at this point I should point out that I haven't got the slightly idea if you would ever get to read this letter. All in all, it is probably unlikely. If I ever showed you this, if would have to be either a long time down the road, or after we're no longer friends. Mostly, I'm just writing this letter because if I don't do it now, I would never be able to express any of this and it would continue to haunt me as it has done so for the past 18 months.
Yesterday, I had spent the day thinking about us, as I went through the motions of my daily chores. I thought about things logically as I got groceries from Costco, I felt about things emotionally when I was having coffee in Burlingame and I talked to friends about all of this. None of it brought me any real insight into any of it, except for what I already know: That I am still in love with you, but for the moment I could only be a friend.... Because you're in rebound mode. Because there's a good chance that you no longer see me that way. And most importantly, because you are succumbing to the the addiction of being in love with love, while I've done all I can to control and repel my addiction.
You know as well as I do that being in love with love is like a cancer. When you have no object of affection, it fills you up with so much love and care that you feel like you would burst. Yet, when you are in a relationship that's stabilizing, it makes you feel as if something is missing and you are quite hollow; the only time when we are content is when the relationships are starting. When it's all about the other person. When it's like Romeo and Juliet. People who have this "disease" thrive on the passion, the thrall and the power which comes with budding relationships. It's not about love. Not about settling down, but all about the pleasures of being in a relationship can give us. Most likely, this is due to the fact that society sees the success of a relationship as a value indicator and us, having self-confidence issues, seeks the validation this way. But, just like cigarettes, one can't just be happily drunk in all of this without a price. The price we pay is our hearts, our trust and our sanity.
It's taken me seven long years and five painful break-ups to realize that I had an issue. That I was in love with love itself as a notion and I couldn't stay like that. That there was NOTHING in this world that could satisfy the hunger inside me. The hunger for love and validation will eat, eat and keep on eating until either I was gone as a person, or until I couldn't take it anymore and commits suicide. So, I decided to take control and managed to maintain an order against the darkness inside me. How? Mostly it was just a lot of self-reflection and focusing on my strengths, instead of my weakness. Also, a lot of logic and rationality. There was some ignoring and burying as well. Nevertheless, I was and still am in love with love, even as we speak now. I won't lie to you; I don't know if it's possible to get rid of this thing. It is a part of ourselves. But, like any disease, you can learn to cope with it quite well. On good days, I even forget about it completely. Until I go to bed and my thoughts move to you.
or 18 months ago, when I found out that you had cheated with David and that you were getting into a relationship with him, part of me saw red. Especially when you claimed that you and me were nothing but friends. And that as a friend I should be happy for you that you had found someone who cared about you. All I wanted to do was to go to your house, blow up and just... do something. Anything at all, really. Essentially, what David did two weeks ago, when you two broke up. You had no idea how much I wanted to tell your mother about us when I went to get my books. But, I didn't. I couldn't. I loved you so much that I knew if I did, it would cause you pain. And I would rather being drawn and quartered then to have you feel any pain as a result of my actions. And I hate that you have to feel the darkness just as I do. Believe me- If I could, I would gladly take that from you. All I've ever wanted ever since falling for you is for you to be happy. True love is about doing the right thing for the person you love, no matter how much it may hurt you. That's why I let you go 18 months ago without much fanfare. I spent months picking up the phone and dial the first 6 numbers, then hanging up. Afraid that if I called, I would cause you pain due to frictions between you and David. By the way, I'm sorry that you two have broken up. (No, actually, I really AM sorry. I'm not being sarcastic, promise!) I know he made you happy. But you have to understand, your happiness can only shine through the murk of "being in love with love" if you let it. Only you can make yourself happy.
No, love really isn't about the passion, the heat and the butterflies, Nate. It's about how much you care for the person as your best friend and how much you're willing to take on for them. No, it's not the "Romeo and Juliet" kind of love. The Romeo and Juliet stuff is great, but it's not eternal. Why? Because of time. As we age, everything goes. The bodies, the jobs, the, the hair, the technologies, the shoes, everything; they all go. At the end of the our lives, the best you can hope to find is someone who doesn't annoy you, you're mildly attracted to and you wouldn't mind having be your best friend for a long, long time. (Essentially, it's like the Adam Sandler song, "I'll grow old with you.")
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