what it feels like to be on the way to being in lo-

If I am to be very honest with myself: he feels incredibly right that it scares me.

I spent today with all three of my sisters – separately – and had elaborated about A to Eldest Sis and Third Sis. I spoke of him from different angles. I think I just wanted to share and confide because I’m not yet able to confess to friends in Miri – all of us are mutual friends after all, being colleague-friends – about falling for him. I think this isn’t love – yet, maybe – only a type of falling. But. If I am to be very honest with myself: I think I am a little on the way to being a lot in love.

“I’ve been praying a lot these days,” I told Eldest Sis. Hearing that, she gave a small laugh.

“He just…” I tried explaining.

“I’m driven by conversations. And I think that was what struck me about him and I keep feeling, until now, that it’s just so… strange… how I only realized it belatedly, at the end of an entire Sunday spent: oh, we connect.”

I think it is neither insignificant nor coincidental, that instead of thinking he would fit ‘a type’ or whatever that I’ve been looking for – our conversations took place first, without any pretext or preconceived notions on my part. I was literally just being my usual chatty self. This is also how I know that my feelings are genuine: the realization of ‘hey, maybe there’s something here’ only came about later. In fact, to be honest, we’d crossed paths a few times over the last four months since he joined in April but I’d always overlooked him; I had to wreck my brain trying to remember him in certain events.

“If I’m to put it honestly… he feels like K – but the Malay version.” I laughed at my own words. “K is my intellectual equal.  I actually told K about him, at least what A said about having standards – what K coins as ‘the Stanford pedestal.’ He was surprised that A said that cos he’s the quiet type, you know?  That statement though… I was so bothered by that. I still am.” 

“I think two things that you said to me in the past really resonate right now,” I admitted to Eldest Sis. “One: that it  – love – strikes when we’re content with our lives. You know how you’re always telling me to live my life just fine, happily? That’s what I honestly feel about my life and myself recently, especially the last three months. I know I had a bumpy January and February, but these days I think: my life is… full. I really am happy, you know? I wasn’t looking.”

Do you remember what I wrote a month or so ago? I wanted to be found when I am ‘at my best.’

“Two: to ask for what I really want. It’s not like I keep a list. As in, a literal list of the kind of person that I want. I don’t – but I do have a mental list of traits that I consider important. For instance: I hope he finds God before he finds me. I’ve always said this to friends whenever I talk about the idea of a person for myself. The thing with A is… he just feels so… I think he’s everything that I look for in a person. I didn’t actually think such a person exists, you know?”

Eldest Sis nodded her head and said, “That’s why I keep telling you… just pray in specifics.”

“He just feels so… right… that I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if this is, or will, go anywhere.” 

I told her about yesterday evening’s conversation, when I’d once again asked him what his dreams were.

“That’s why I asked the other day,” I said to him yesterday evening on our way to dropping me off at the airport, “What is your dream?” He seemed like he was about to say something – but held back. I stole a quick glance and read the air between us; his hesitation. That was when I realized that maybe I’d gone too far – I’d asked a question I was not yet privy to. So I pulled back and stopped pressing; I didn’t say anything further. But I guess he decided to speak up. 

“It’s an incredibly simple dream…” he finally voiced out. “My dream is to be a good person.”

I looked at Eldest Sis with a genuinely shocked look on my face as I repeated those sentences.  “Oh my god, at that moment I think I literally went ‘sht…’ in my head. Because my own life purpose has always been to be a good person.”

I think my heart literally stopped beating for a second, at that particular moment.

“And he’s the quiet type, you know? His text messages give nothing away. You should see our texts. Here’s mine-“ I shaped an oval with my fingers, “-then there’s his-“ I made a slim rectangle this time around, “-but when we meet and we chat… our conversations are fun. This is me,” I pointed to myself, “an open book.” I paused. “Then there’s him, constantly withholding information. I can’t stand it.  I don’t know how to read him and I can’t translate our in-person chats to texts either. In our line of work too, there’s actually no overlap… so I keep finding excuses to meet. But I keep feeling like I’m doing all the asking and pushing and whatever else, and it’s like – what if in truth, he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Trust me,” she said, and I detected a hint of certainty to her voice, “there’s always two parts to a story.”

If I am to be honest-to-God with myself right now, the reason for this continuous tumultuous unease about this person isn’t at all because I think I’m falling for the wrong kind of person – it’s the exact opposite. He feels exactly what I’ve always, in secret and in silence, prayed for that it scares the living daylights out of me if he turns out, in the end, to not be my person.

I want everything about him to be the truth but at the same time, I don’t know what to do and how to handle this if it is indeed the truth. Frankly speaking, I don’t think I’ve ever been so fckn afraid of my heart until this past week.

want him to be my person because he feels, absurd though this may sound, literally like a prayer incarnated.

Advertisements

Don't Hold Back! Share Your Thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s