When You Find The Right Love In The Wrong Life

I spent countless moments in solitude, whether it be at my favorite spot in the café or a random wooden bench where my feet took me. There I was, lost in my thoughts again, as I briskly wiped the tears that clouded my vision and let out a half-hearted chuckle. I’ve gone through that phase of crying when my I saw things that led back to you.

I no longer had your number even if you were once the first person I wanted to call about my day. Yet as I walked home, I couldn’t help but reminisce how you used to entertain me with such ridiculous ideas, the very ones that tugged at my heartstrings. You and I were like tea and biscuits, except it wasn’t time for afternoon tea when we met.

It’s been quite a while since we mutually decided to break off ties, not that we had bad blood between us, but it was probably for the best.

To this very day, I’ve wondered how and why we ever got this far when in fact we hardly looked each other’s way back then.

I could still recall the way you almost never left without a sweater or how you looked intently into my eyes when I spoke. You spelled out the satisfaction after working at the gym, the raging downpour in November, and the thrill of midnight drives which I didn’t see in anyone else.

Those who knew nothing about the surreal bliss of a little danger in their lives were drawn to your peculiar antics; apparently, I was one of them. On the other hand, I was a porcelain figurine wrapped in paper, reserved about myself and wouldn’t spare anyone (apart from a close knit of people), a glimpse of the deepest parts of me until someone like you came along.

In my entire life, I have never met a single soul who led me to see the beauty of the night. All of these years, I’ve slept through it completely. It only seemed like yesterday that we talked for hours like we didn’t have classes in the morning and simply couldn’t take longer than a moment or two to catch our breath.

You were the lone star in my sky and I was the apple of your eye, but then not all stories have happy endings no matter how much two people loved each other.

As for your spontaneous adventures and free-floating dreams, I wouldn’t be the one to move around the world where you pleased to be. We couldn’t go frolicking by the beach until the break of dawn, nor could you take me out for candle-lit dinners without taking me home before midnight. I wouldn’t be the girl who appears on the newspaper cover holding your hand because I know you’ll be making a name for yourself someday.

Maybe I’m too engrossed with my planned life, where there are always matters to consider and I understood that it shouldn’t stop you from reaching the stars. You wouldn’t be the one who pushes the cart when it takes me forever to pick from the cereal aisle or the face that I come home to after a long day of paperwork. I was too caught up in my familiar routines and you were always off to quench your thirst for the strangest things.

Despite all these, we shared the same love for desserts, books, museums, and a bunch of other things that made you fit like a puzzle piece. I was yours to love until we lasted, you were mine to cherish until you drifted away.

A slapping reality we both had to accept and understand, we were candles lit with one too late after the other. It wasn’t fair for me to hold you down from pursuing what makes you happy when in fact you couldn’t exactly stay when I need you here with me.

To have the right love in the wrong life, is nothing but bittersweet and cruel. A part of me will always keep the possibility of us in my heart because that’s all where the two of us can meet. Maybe in another life, we’ll find each other and by then, it will be our time.

The nights have grown colder when we parted, but I can put up with the cold knowing that the warmth we shared could live in the next life.