Monday, January 7, 2013 @ 5:48 PM

I don't cry often, but when I do, a stream of tears rush down my eyes and it's so abrupt because what triggers it is something I impetuously scroll by or just happen to see or hear. It's as if crying means losing control; so much that your body ceases to obey you in the face of the fact. I thought I have gotten damn well used to seeing things that embraced your scent and carried your memories but all of that was simply due to the strength I've managed to build up and my resistance. I resisted in order for me to not fall back to square one again and I tried to resist you. But today, I've cracked, much more worse than any of the other times, while being wistful that you actually care.

While scrolling through the blog of a recent and seemingly unknown follower of mine, I've come to notice that he was going through a period of heartbreak of his own. A person's sadness always sparks my interests in a good way, because I wonder if they feel the same as I do; similar aches, hope that seems worthless but does not cease to dwindle, and the inevitability of experiencing the pain of only being able to watch their loved one from afar. And indeed, he felt as I did, or at least close, and while reading through his letter that will never be read by his certain someone, I could not help but feel envious of the girl he was writing to. How amazing would it feel to have someone cherish you in such a way, despite the numerous obstacles he may have faced that could have deteriorated his endurance to continue caring for you? I cried not only for my pain but his. Because being in love with someone you  aren't meant to be with is the most unfortunate thing.