Welcome!: memories of you

Friday 9 October 2009

memories of you

So I was on my way back a couple of nights ago after a movie-night with my friend, and I was just on the bus, quiet and empty because it was late. Bored, I took out my phone and started playing with it. I have about 158 messages in my inbox now, as we speak, and probably about a hundred of them were old messages.

The oldest was dated January 23, 2007, followed by a couple texts from the same year and last year, but there are a handful of messages from early this year that I haven't managed to delete. To be fair, I would still have a lot more old messages than that if I didn't change my phone the beginning of this year, so in result I lost a lot of messages which otherwise I would still keep.

Why, you ask? Call me sentimental, I just have a habit of not deleting nice messages, however old they may be. And not just text messages, I have a lot of letters, gifts, photos from eons ago that I still cherish to this day too. But text messages are the easiest to store and to look back on. Ask me if you can borrow my brand new, expensive shoes that I haven't even worn before, and I would gladly let you. But ask me to delete one message from old friend I have lost contact with (who probably has forgotten my name, face, and wouldn't care shit whether I'm still alive or not), and I wouldn't be able to.

Seriously, though, why? I don't know, why do you ask me back? I'm supposed to ask you for answers. But, going back to a few nights ago, yeah, I was in the bus and I started reading old messages from one particular person. I got really close to this person for many months, but now we hardly talk at all. The messages brought melancholic smile to my face, because they reminded me of a lot of things we shared and time we spent together and all of those are precious. These messages symbolized memories, and I think I could still remember where I was or what I was feeling at the exact time I got these messages. I couldn't help but reminiscing.

I was so engrossed, and I was slightly daydreaming, I guess, because the next thing I knew, I have alighted the bus even when it wasn't my stop yet. As soon as I got off, I realized. I still had a few more bus stops to go, but at that state, I didn't really mind the walk, so I did. It was quite a distance but I felt nice somehow. And the air was cool, there were hardly any noises, so after I've hungrily read all the messages until there were no more texts to read (the last one I still remember, I was at the airport on my way back to Jakarta, and you thanked me for every moments we spent together, and that you wouldn't ever forget me. Sure, words are cheap, aren't they?), I put on the headphone and blasted on the music as I made my way home.

I know, to look at it positively, I should just be glad that I have all these memories and wonderful times, and of course I am. Memory is a wonderful thing if you don't have to deal with the past, right? Why can't I look at everything as just a great memory, without anything else entails? There needn't be a follow-up, or a continuation. Instead, this is the end of the story, with just all the good stuffs. Wouldn't that make everyone happier?

And knowing that it's out there, at least something, or someone, who has been able to make me feel that way, make me experience the day-to-day happiness from the simplest gestures and the simplest phone calls everyday, that is precious. It reminds me that we shouldn't settle for anything less.

I'm not even talking about relationships, or love, because they're too cheesy and forced, we can call it whatever we want. I'm saying, that yes, some people in our lives are just meant to pass us by, so when we look back, I hope instead of being sad, we can really just be happy for their presence while it lasts. I know it's hard, I'm still learning too.

Having said that, still I don't think I will erase these old messages anytime soon because they help me remember something's out there.

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Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.