For The First Time

Have you ever felt so close to someone, only to wait for each other to encourage the other with enough signs before someone actually makes the first move? For a moment you thought you have fallen in love, but alas, nobody moves, and it almost feels like you have broken up, not physically, but emotionally. Then you drift further apart from them, knowing that some point in your life you almost bent in for a kiss but was never really ready for it.

I've been replaying one song for the entire day, not knowing the reason why, but just feel like I needed such a therapy. Ironic, isn't it, that we have to admit that somehow, it is the saddest things or moments in our life that are most artistically beautiful. Not that I'm a saddist, but I genuinely feel that way. It's extremely moving, perhaps, to know that sad events evoke emotions and the brilliant side of humanity more than anything else. It is the time when we feel most sentient. I guess that's what makes crying a peculiar sort of therapy. There were moments, and I am not ashamed of them, that I just felt like crying for a reason that even I am unsure of. It was probably a surge of emotions, or that I was thinking too much (which I am pretty good at), but I just wanted to be vulnerable for awhile.

Behind every sad song possibly lies a heart-wrenching story, and it's when we find ourselves relating to these supposed heartbreaking events that we feel that we are a part of it. A part of the song. A part of the process. A part of the pain. And it will always be about losing someone - family, friend or lover; permanently or temporarily. Nothing is quite as beautiful as losing someone close, because behind each loss is a little bit of inadequacy, regret, and most importantly, a fragment of a happy memory.

The greatest surprise is that we're not very different people after all. Most of us can watch a touching video and cry, listen to a sad song and well up, hug someone and feel as if you never want to let go, sit and talk for hours about nothing but everything that comes to mind with that certain someone. You and I are so much of the same. We think we're alone but we're not, and we realise that when times are hard, when we need people to support us, that it is especially true.

Life is never about "going according to plan". We have a choice to live spontaneously or cautiously. But if you ask me, I was never really ready for anything, and don't think I'll ever be. To love yourself is to love life, and to admit your weaknesses and sensuality is not vulnerability, but an expression of truth, to yourself, and to the people around you.

I think I will give myself a little time, and maybe a chance to be different. And maybe, just maybe, for once in my life, I'll find that I'm ready for something.