I had a discussion with co-workers last night.

There were 4 of us: Me, Sam, and another two co-workers.
If you don’t understand who the hell Sam is, read the previous post.
Anyway, we were talking about love and girls.
It was a cliche and a very ordinary topic, I understand– we understood.
But it really had to be our topic, Sam was and still having problems with that so-called girl, one guy is married, and the other guy was just being a complete theoretical person that seems to know everything about relationship even though he (ironically) never been in one.
And me? Well, you lot know about me and my story.

We laughed, we mocked each other, and we talked.
We took turns in talking about each other.
We talked about Sam and his girl, about his problems, where we actually said that he should just say to the girl if he’s having height problems.
I mean, he got nothing to lose, if that’s going to be a problem for the girl, then there’s nothing Sam can’t do about it.
But he can’t just spend his whole life being oblivious about it without knowing the truth on how the girl really feels about it.
Looking at Sam, now I know why Oscar Wilde said that ‘truth is rarely pure and never simple’– it really is true for me now.

We talked about the married guy, he’s only 28, but he’s happily married and currently happily being a workaholic along with me and the others.
Like me, he gave Sam some advice about how he should do things.
And well, all he did was just being witty almost all the time.
The another guy, the last one, was just being a theoretical person.
Because it was as if he understand things about relationship and gave advices, but in reality, he just never been in a relationship.
And worse, he just never want to make a move to girls that he likes.
I called bullshit for his advices, it’s not that I did not respect him– I do, I just thought that what he said wasn’t make any sense.

And it was my turn– all their eyes were on me, then came the question:

“So, what’s your story? Tell us yours.”
“You seem like you got a lot of experience, that you got a lot of wisdom, that you got a lot of social skill and information, and I know that we look at you and be assured that you have the right mind, or at least look like one, because it seems like you read a lot and have a good judgment.”
“But you haven’t told us anything– you never did.”

I scoffed, and smiled to them.
All the while, in that few seconds, I was thinking on what I really should say to them because I don’t know what should I talk about.
I then decided to say something that’s completely related to me, but I didn’t want to say things about me too much.

“I don’t have any story to tell.”
“I do have my own past, and it’s not all rainbows, fairy-tales or even filled with butterflies flying around inside my life.”
“About social skill, I don’t see myself as an accomplished man in that area– I’m still terribly awkward sometimes and I’m not even sure if I have a very good judgment regarding things.”
“So, well I can’t really say anything.”

“That’s bullshit, impossible. You just don’t want to tell us anything.”
“Okay, maybe with a more detailed and more specific question.”
“Do you actually have girlfriend?”

I shrugged and smiled.

“Do you have someone that you love?”

I scoffed and nodded.

“Then why you never actually say anything about her?”
“People would usually go around and tell the story to another people. I mean, you must have someone that you will go to and tell your story to, right? Seems like every single person in this world does!”
“So why don’t you tell us about her? Well, at least it will actually help yourself in assuring how much do you love her.”
“Whether you really love her, or not.”

I pulled a chair and sat down.
I paused for a moment, looked at them, and said to them:

“There’s a difference between privacy and secrecy.”
“I’m not keeping it a secret that I love someone, I will say it to every single one that ask the question about whether I love someone or not.”
“But there’s privacy, there’s an utmost privacy on how I manage that love.”
“Because love isn’t about continuously declaring it to people, or even outdoing yourself in order to prove just how much someone means to you.”
“For me right now, loving out loud is just so overrated. Especially when I find the greatest gestures of love can be so small, that they are usually taken for granted, for they are easily overlooked.”
“I might not show it, I might not tell it to you guys or to anyone, but it’s the action that matters. I’ll have you know that I always and will always put that single person before myself.”
“And I believe, that kind of action is where true love resides.”
“No matter how big or small the sacrifice that I will make to that certain person, I will always make the very same choice: that in my eyes– that in my heart, she will always come first.”

They laughed and slapped me in the shoulder and said that I was cheesy.
I was being the cheesiest man they have ever head in their whole life.
I smiled and laughed and said to them that what I said was true.
Well, what I wrote was not as lengthy as what I said at that time.
But those were the points from what I said that very night.
Maybe I was being cheesy, maybe, but I just don’t really care if I was.

At least I was being honest and I said what I really feel.


Dear Love,

I’ve said it numerous times– I don’t need to declare my love for you.
At least not for now, not this time, not in front of those people.
I don’t need to tell them that I am going to love you in your weakest moments– and that I am going to love you in your strongest.
That I am going to love you when you’re happy and I am going to still love you the most when you’re sad.
Maybe they don’t understand, but I want to love you, each and every piece of you– with your imperfections as much as I want you for you.

I want to remove the illusion of time from those people and your heart– I want them and I want you to completely understand, that my love can’t be measured by watch or calendar.

I want to run my fingers through the hairs– and through your soul, just so I could understand how you might be feeling.
I want to clean the gorgeous mess you and the people around you created when they destroyed you and put you in your hiding.
I want to turn your pain into poetry, and perform it to your fears, so they could find faith in the future.
I want to listen to the lyrics in your silence, for they confess what’s on your mind, things that people wouldn’t want to listen closely from you.

Love, I might be in bits and pieces, but I still love you in thousands– even millions– or even billions of ways that you could imagine.







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