Hi! I haven’t written for awhile now so bear with me. My thoughts will be a bit erratic, jumping from thing to another.
Right now, I feel like wanting to stand still for a bit. I came to this decision after talking to Joe, very good friend, my brother from another mother, and favorite bar stool philosopher. He said I haven’t been meditating And he was right. I’ve been busy adulting lately. The other person who can uncannily read me like a book, think what I think, feel like I feel, experience the same emotions as I do (f*ck, even type at the same time as I do!), is Marko—my twin, who is someone I never roll my eyes at (this is an involuntary Jen mannerism in response to contempt). I never hide anything from him. He’s basically the only person right now that I feel like talking to, unfiltered. Meeting your twin soul in this lifetime, is something. You don’t always get to meet your doppelgänger. I’ve always thought I was limited edition, but I was one of those few lucky ones who got to meet theirs.
It was almost like the plot twist that you were waiting to happen but didn’t see coming, like waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it did.
What am I talking about, and how does everyone fit in? I’ll get there. Patience is a virtue, and whisky is taking its sweet time.
Earlier I was talking to one of my friends about her failed relationships. I’ve come to some serious realizations—mediocrity in relationships never satisfy me. I’ll never be thrilled with a few moments of passion amidst countless moments of indifference. I’ll never be thrilled with being adored for a day and being neglected for a week, nay, a month! I’ll never be thrilled with mercurial efforts or prosaic exchanges. I want someone who understands that love is always kind. If it isn’t, then it isn’t love. I don’t want someone who thinks showing emotions is being dramatic or wanting more means neediness. I want someone who is not afraid to open their heart, because my heart is not a home for cowards.
Nothing ever ends poetically for most of us. As humans, we tend to turn heartbreak into poetry. All the blood we see after a heartache, was never beautiful as we perceived it to be—it was just red. Neither one of you is happy, but neither one of you wants to leave. The result is almost predictable—you stay in each others lives, keep breaking each other’s hearts, and kept calling it love. And then everything just falls , albeit spectacularly, apart.
What am I getting at? I’ve realized that for some, when they love, they’d kill for the feeling of reliving those happy feelings of past loves gone. It maybe very unhealthy but some people can’t just stop loving silently those they once loved out loud. One of the hardest things one has to do is to grieve the loss of a person who is still alive. It makes one wish to lose those feelings as fast as they lost their loved ones. Maybe sometimes, we aren’t meant to get over someone. We go on living, though a little bit emptier. I swore to never be like that again. I, like countless others, hoped that when the right one finds me, it will be effortless for them to stay, instead of explaining why timing is not on our side or why we couldn’t work. I’d break every f*cking clock on this earth to prove that to the one I care about that we are not bad timing. The secret to having it all (well, almost all anyway), is believing you already do.
Because I’ll never be satisfied with the temporary, sometimes, or maybes.
This Virgo heart has been a fool in so many instances, but there’s one thing it gets right every single time—it always switches off when it’s time to leave. Always. It may take time for me to walk away, but when I do, it’s for good, with no regrets. Trust the overthinker who says they love you. They have, most assuredly, thought of every reason not to.
I shouldn’t be drinking while on keto—it makes me wear whisky like a loaded gun.