Hey, baby. How are you? I had another vivid dream about you earlier when I was having my afternoon nap. I was somewhat aware that it was just a dream though, so I got to savor each intimate moment with you.
So, I was having dinner with my parents somewhere I didin’t recognize, and suddenly I just saw you standing a few meters away from our table, looking at me. I just abruptly stood up from my seat, ran straight to you, and hugged you. Honestly though, if it were to happen for real, I’d still totally do the same, ignoring the fact that my parents and the other diners might think I’ve lost my mind to run to nobody.
I hugged you, told you how much I’ve been missing you, and kissed you. I didn’t care, not even one bit, about how you didn’t open your mouth, or how you were unable to speak. I think I’m starting to believe what people say about how the dead aren’t able to open their mouths to speak anymore. I was glad at least you were able to hug and kiss me back, baby. It’s been too long. Way too long since then.
You’re nowhere near anymore, baby, I suppose dreams would just have to do for now.
No, the correct question should be “What if you didn’t try to get my number that day?” Because honestly, our meeting was purely coincidental, and if you didn’t try to snap tons of pictures of me and talk to me, I wouldn’t have noticed your presence anyway.
But you did. You took your chances. And I couldn’t help but think of the answer to the question stated above. You know what? I think time would’ve just passed by without leaving any significant mark whatsoever in my life. Even if you still died in that freak-Harley accident two years ago, it wouldn’t have had any impacts on me, on my life.
How it’s like, there’s this invisible line that separates my life: before you died, when everything was all about butterflies and all things nice, and after you died, when everything turned blue and blah.
You see, I’ve changed a lot since then. I’m no longer the same person I was when we were together. It’s been almost two years since I last fell in love, and it frustrates me sometimes how I can’t even remember how it feels like.
If I could have it my way, I’d wish you’d never set the bar too high for everyone else and make it harder for me to start anew. Then again, you did, and I can’t do shit about it because you meant the world to me, in fact, you still do.
However, I have no regrets. I couldn’t think of any better way to spend 21 months of my life than with you, Iwan. I’m so grateful God gave me a chance to be with you. I miss you, baby. Hope you’re doing okay up there. :)
“I want you and I don’t want to be a luxury. I want you to need me. I want you to not be able to concentrate because you’re thinking about me. I want you to reach for your phone because you thought of something you have to share with me. I want you to not even be able to breathe at the thought of never seeing me again, because that’s how I feel about you.”—All He Ever Needed, Shannon Stacey
“Missing someone isn’t about how long it has been since you’ve last seen them or the amount of time since you’ve talked. It’s about that very moment when you’re doing something and wishing they were right there with you.”—
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”—The Four Loves, C. S. Lewis
Hey, baby. How are you doing these days? I hope you’re doing well up there (or where ever you are). I still wish, sometimes, that we could still Skype or whatever. Silly me, I know. I don’t believe in ghosts or supernatural activities, but I’d so kill to see one more glance of you, even if then you’d just vanish into thin air.
Baby, a few days ago, Shinta Kamdani was being interviewed on one of our afternoon shows. I recognized her face from the TV, so I came down right away. Said Hi to her after she’s done with it, talked a bit about you, and she said, “Yeah, we all miss him.” It warmed my heart somehow.
Anyways, yesterday a notable muslim preacher died in a motorcycle crash, leaving a beautiful wife and four kids behind. He’s everywhere in the news, and since, you know, I work at a local TV station, I couldn’t seem to be able to not see it. It shattered my heart the way your news did two years ago.
It got me thinking, why is it that the more dates I have, the more I realize how irreplaceable you are, baby? I just can’t help but to compare, and yes, you’re right, baby, you’ve set the bar too high for everyone else.
Ninety weeks have passed since August 6th, 2011, but still I wish you were still around. I miss you, Iwan. Like, too much. And I might not say this often, but I still love you, I can’t deny it. In fact, I don’t think I will ever stop loving you.
“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have, and I am in love with you.”—John Green, The Fault in Our Stars (via fakeville)