Monday, June 16, 2014

June 16th: Distance makes the heart grow fonder

Time is such an intangible thing. Remembering, reminiscing through the blurry lens of time casts such a nostalgic filter over everything.
I miss Nik. I miss him so much. But I'm not sure if it's at all for the right reasons. After all, how do you know these things? It's probably not, I'm sure. Like it's not like I even knew him profoundly or anything. But yet, it seems at every moment, I am perpetually reminded of him and I find myself yearning for the familiarity that we had for a brief while in our own little infinity. I know, I'm a romanticist at heart. An idealist to the end. I can't even fathom the concept of meaningless or futility properly because I always optimistically...naively come back to the same presumption - everything that happens in this life is meant to happen. And if the world was a a spiral map of human lives and their fated paths all intertwined, mine was always meant to cross with his. And so our story began and ended. Or has it? I know I make it sound like this romantically epic tragedy but it's really not how it was at all. Because reality, for all it's deafening realness...is not like in movies or books; an amazing series of well-paced events that culminate into a climatic conclusion. No, there are no skip cuts or light cursory glimpses over through the redundant parts. Like Reinette says in The Girl in the Fireplace "There is a vessel in your world where the days of my life are pressed together like the chapters of a book, so that he may step from one to the other without increase of age while I, weary traveller, must always take the slower path." I've always found this quote particularly resonant because there's something compellingly definite about this whole notion of life, in all it's reality, as the "slower path". The path we weary travellers all must take because there are no shortcuts, no TARDISes, no time turners or magic to somehow skip all the boring parts, the slower parts, the redundancy and just experience the most exciting moments that seem to entirely define the human existence in movies and in books. Therefore, life must be lived, in all it's entirety, through the redundancy and the exciting moments...but to what end? As Hamlet once asked so poetically "What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven?". Perhaps I'm meant to make poor life decisions. Follow my heart. Find myself through all this meandering. The problem has always been my uncontainable curiosity.

Anyway, before I further trail off my point, no, what I had with Nik wasn't some kind of epic. Because it was better because it was real in all senses of the word. When I look back, those moments we had, we shared seem so utterly fleeting and ephemeral....like it wasn't even meant to last. And you know, it's strange  because when I was with him, his arm around my waist and me leaning onto his chest, watching a movie or something...I have never wanted more badly for a moment to last forever. For us to exist, happy in that little infinity. But Time, the ever-surging river she is, never stops and once again, the moment's over and I'm alone and he's not here anymore.
I guess, suffice to say, I suffer from the most lame preoccupation: I'm really not over him. And so I miss him and more than periodically reminded of him all too often and it fills me with this deep kind of sadness that I feel like these feelings I had for him are so deeply entrenched that even I, in all my logical rationale - of how unsuited we were for each other - cannot climb out of. But yet all the same I know that these feelings are not particularly profound, I just mostly miss his familiarity the most, if anything.
I wish life were more simple. And I didn't contradict myself a thousand times a day....as I do.
Or even just decisions like "I'm going to move on" were met with instant resolution. But it's not because life is messy and it's complicated and feelings throw everything into disarray and I'm utterly confused again.
I miss him. I miss his soft brown hair. The familiar bridge of his nose. His eyes. His laugh.
And I can't help but wonder, what happened?

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