TokyoHeart: The Little Man.

WARNING: Longest post ever.

With good reason, I think it's about time I finally lay down all my thoughts and feelings regarding this long term matter that has been bothering me. Lately, I've gotten the time to really think things through in a calm and rational manner. And while I no longer spend most of my waking days crying and downtrodden, my subconscious bothers me through odd dreams and bad dreams, giving me fistful nights of painstaking, restless sleep. 

To be honest, I'm not quite sure where to start, how to begin putting these fragmented thoughts into solidified words. But my dreams, and this post will center around a certain someone, a boy to be exact.

It's quite the sad tale, and while my blog posts usually don't detail on the specifics of my failed relationships, I'd like to make an exception on this one, simply because I've done everything to dispel myself from this madness and still, a least a portion of it remains. I am a thousand miles away, safe from harm and destruction and yet, this still follows me. I've read thousands of inspirational blogs, talked, ranted and listened to the advises of countless friends and family, read books, listened to good music, lived the Tokyo life and still my subconscious keeps bugging me to no end. Spring has done me good, I'm not in pain, really. Just a bit bothered. And just.. well, maybe now I'd like to take some time to give a sort requiem to the events that have affected me for almost half a year.

I've honestly no idea how writing about any of this will serve any purpose. Maybe it's not even that boy anymore. Maybe its my recent addiction to science fiction and this amazing show, Fringe. It is quite the maddening show. :)) Or maybe it's The Kite Runner, this incredibly powerful and moving book I just finished (and which I desire to read all over again) that just shatters your entire being with every chapter. It makes you reflect -- its made me reflect -- and reconsider your life, your morals, everything! :)) Seriously. I honestly can't believe that book's done and over and that while all my favorite characters (or at least, characters whom I got attached to) have all died, the book ends with hope and lightness glimmering at the end of the tunnel. It's really beautiful. 

Anyway, the point is I've no clue really why I must put this out. I just know I have to. If you'd rather not read on about tragedy and other rants, by all means, skip this post and await my upcoming happier (not to mention, shorter) posts. 

And no, the photos have absolutely no connection to anything that will be written here. :))

Either or, here goes. 

Once upon a time, a young girl found this thing they term 'love'. Blindingly, she gave her entire being to it, unmindful and innocent. 3 years later, it betrayed her and rendered her speechless, jaded and broken.

Years later, perhaps another 2 years of 2 unrequited loves, an unexpected boy enters the picture. This boy was odd and special and could be as little as she was and therefore, we shall call him, 'Little Man'. He was nothing important to the young girl then, and she had no solid memory of him aside from the fact that he just popped out of nowhere like a silent lurker of sorts. 

However, this 'Little Man' saved her a bit from the darkness she was falling in, and desired to protect her. In turn, she was drawn to him and wanted to know more of this curious friend whom she did not recognize until he placed himself in her light. Within, she secretly wished he'd fulfill what he had said and wanted to do. But his own fears got to him -- fears that took form in words like insecurity and commitment, his own past. To save himself from any kind of pain that would come, he lied to her and hurt her. She cried for days, and decided to forgive him. And that was that. But something continued to happen between them, until it confused the girl and eventually, made her question and doubt him, assume the wrong things. This hurt Little Man immensely -- apparently, he still liked her and still wanted to protect her, despite his firm lie. He had slowly been inching out of his own box just for her and just when he was, she did not believe him. 

Suffice to say, it ended. Quite foolishly, with a kiss. Little Man's first, and the young girl's second. It was the saddest kiss to be ever had, for kisses aren't meant for goodbyes and that haunted them both and left them hungering for more.

Months later, after a confrontation, Little Man decides to take another 180 and becomes extremely nice to the young girl again. This, once again, confuses the young girl, but she silences herself and watches it play out, learning her lesson from last time around. One unexpected night, he confesses to her that he yearned for her kiss even after all those months. In turn, she confessed how she felt the same. Days later, she asks him to kiss her and he obliges. And unlike the first, the second was the happiest moment of their lives. A disclaimer must be noted, that both Little Man and the young girl, in an attempt to protect themselves lied to each other by telling each other how they no longer have feelings for the other. 

But the kiss they shared once again proved just how much of lie it all was.

The young girl dumbfounded and breathless by his tender touch, and kisses; his smile and that particular look she could not grasp believed that this turn of events would be a miracle, that second chance she had secretly yearned for, the one in which they said 'we'll see'. 

But one day, Little Man took it all back. Just like the first time, fears and other situations took form in his mind larger than ever, posing demons that frightened him and inevitably made him decide to hurt the young girl once again. He said that he did not like 'letting go so much of himself' when he was with her, that he was just trying to see if he still felt protective of her (and that was not the case), such and such. 

And all the young girl could do was stand before him, flabbergasted and confused beyond reason. Why was he hurting her, she wondered. Why did he not want to be happy with her. 

In the end, she realized that despite the doubts, the confusion, the lies she told herself and Little Man, she fell in love. She was in love with someone who could not give her anything but silence and uncertainty; who restrained himself too much because of the fear his own demons instilled within him.

This destroyed her, not only because it hurt but more on the fact that it wasn't meant to be this way.

The young girl did the thing she did best, and ran away. Far, far away to a place where he could not reach her any more.   

"She said, 'I'm so afraid.' And I said, 'Why?', and she said, 'Because I am so profoundly happy like this is frightening.' I asked her why and she said, 'They only let you be this happy if they're preparing to take something from you.'" -- 271, The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini
To be honest, when I think about everything that's happened, it's really nothing compared to what I've been through before. It's just funny how people truly have a marvelous way of surprising you -- in good ways and in bad. Still, I can't help but wonder why I must go through the similar cycles -- of men who are unsure but offer promises nonetheless, and then unexpectedly push me overboard to drown in a pitless sea unto which I must find a way to swim upwards or perish.

Honestly, if we had both been brave enough, we could've gotten past the first hurdle if we worked together as a team. Like, FBI partners trying to solve a high-profile crime. That's how it is, right? It was so easy. It was actually pretty simple.

I mean, if I was in doubt, why couldn't he have fought for me, why did he not try to prove me wrong? He ran away afraid. And would not even begin to know how to confront me about it, or give me the heads up. That did it, that most disrespectful act that makes forgiving so hard to do.

Afterwards when it first ended, I would ask him, 'why did it end?' in which he would respond, 'ask yourself that.' unto which I desired to hurl a laptop on his face, smile pleasantly and say, 'I'm asking because I want you to tell me what you think, not because I don't know.'

I wish I could apply the saying, "It's easier to let go of people you don't love" to this matter. But it's hard to do so, when memories are embedded in your brain that completely conflict with mere words that could or could not be truth. And the fact that this boy is quite the phenomenon.

Once upon a time, he too fell in love, completely, genuinely and probably blindingly as the young girl had with her own. But not blinding enough, for he cowered in fright at the prospect of it all, lied to that one he had loved back then by saying this irritatingly flimsy excuse and pushed her overboard the ship like he had done me.

So I suppose, that cliche line of advise will have to be thrown overboard as well.

They say, you always fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. Well, there we go. Perhaps you may not have chosen to fall. It just happened. But there are only two paths that you can choose from once you've supposedly found yourself in that 'immovable in-love stage': you either heal hearts, or break them. And that's it.

And then I realize, I know exactly why my subconscious has been bothering me, and won't let me go.
1. Because I know it wasn't supposed to be this way. 2. This story has been the most open-ended story I've ever had to endure. 3. In my heart, I know the truth. But I only ask to have that confirmation of all that what I know.

An answer was not truly given. Lies perhaps, confusion, check, check. A wobbly answer inspiring multiple questions that cannot or will not be answered because it is yet to be known.

Though it's true of what my friends say. That honestly, I don't really need anyone to answer my questions in order to move on -- that alone I can do. I've done going without closure before, I can do so again. No sweat.

I know the answer, really and that's the thing. Every memory that replays in 3-D screams out the answer I've been looking for; that which he cannot give, either because he does not see it or he is afraid to. But the point is, it wasn't supposed to be this way. I believe that with all my being. And still, now I am unwillingly being forced to 'let go and move on' and eventually, will regret doing so. I'm not saying, people are pressuring me to, no. It's just the standard procedure in life, right? When life gives lemons, let go of lemons, grow and find better pastures and blahblah. Still, it haunts me.

It's ironic that given my history on failed relationships, it is the ones who do not reciprocate my feelings who are able to give that firm and respectful answer to every question I have. I am grateful for those people.

It's that form of betrayal that haunts me. I have not done wrong this time around. My last few words with him ran along the lines with him saying, 'I was always saying yes to you, but you were the one who was unsure.' In which, I should've said (but didn't), 'Yes, that may be true. But when it was the time that I was sure, that was when you'd run away in cowardice. Why.'

When he had said how when he was with me, he just 'let go so much of himself and didn't know why' and declaimed on how much he didn't like it, I just stood there, mindfucked to the highest end while at the same time, thinking, 'What about me? What about how much I've let go of myself for you? How I've made a complete fool of myself time and time again for someone like you? Why are you dumping me overboard as if it's my fault, as if you don't evoke the same feelings out of me?"

It's a selfish thought really. But I couldn't help myself to thinking it.

I get what he was saying. I've felt it too, been through it with him and others before him. I get it though, how certain people are special enough to somehow involuntarily make you do the involuntary too. What kind of idiot does not see that, really? How could you abandon someone you wanted to protect -- thrice, mind you. How could one just stand there and pretend like none of it meant anything to him at all?

It is a great bafflement.

What's done is done, I suppose. What's unsaid will never be said, not then and anymore. And those questions will only fall on deaf ears and shaking, frightened lips. It is sad.

Another thing he said, struck me. 'I'm young,' he said. I was irritated when this was first uttered to me, but now, I just sigh, wanting to laugh. Yeah, I understand, I get that. We're young, we get confused and afraid, we want this, we don't want that, we're frightened of this, we want this -- the youth of today is so lost, it's wonderfully amazing. :)) That's life, I guess. :)

Still, my subconscious basically wants me to write out openly for myself mostly, to admit the fact that: I know that world wherein I could be happy with you, and yet I am here, happy (if not, trying to be) on my own.

Perhaps, there's a reason for that and I'd just like to find out what that is.

On a last note, I'd like to talk about that kiss. Here, out in the open.

I think people have this misconception of me where I am experienced in a way that I sleep and flirt around with many, many men. 

I don't. 

Not because I can't, mind you. I know how to turn on the charms and work my way around people. But the thought just never appeals to me. To date someone I am not genuinely interested in, if not, in love with; to sleep, kiss, let alone allow anyone to touch me... is just a big no to me. Sure, a pretty face is nice. But a pretty face is a pretty face. And if I wanted a pretty face, I could just go to a bookstore, buy a magazine, flip through it and get fashion tips while I'm at it. If it doesn't excite or arouse me or make me think, it's out. 

I'm honestly very picky with choosing who I like. And well, while some say I have terrible choices, they're there for reasons that appeal only to me. They have either moved me in a way in an unexpected way and I see the good in them, how they are worth fighting for.

Anyway, point is. I haven't had many kisses either (meaning from different kinds of men). I've much to learn, actually. There are still many, many things about human anatomy that I am curious about. It's fascinating, really. But I honestly just don't like the idea of kissing people at random. It's just so... disgusting. People engage in it, publicly, no less. And all I do is sit and watch and wonder, "what about STDs?" :))

That kiss with Little Man was something a bit more powerful than my previous ones. And I don't know why.

I say this now: I know a kiss isn't supposed to linger for as longer as it has now. Nor the memory of it. It's all supposed to fade away eventually. Well, it's not. And if I could do it now, I would describe every detail, every feeling, every word uttered, everything that occurred in those precious, intimate moments only because it was that powerful. And to think this boy isn't some expert at it. But it stuck. Why. The last time I had felt this way was with my first and even then, it wasn't as powerful as it is now.


And somehow, I know why.

It's called, tenderness. I've never had that in the longest time. I've never really had that, really. I hungered for him, because he always left me curious and unsure. An answer from him always evokes more questions -- it's like, you think you solved the case but then, even if you do, you're left with even more unanswered questions. And so when I kissed him, I'd feel that I was getting closer to him, slowly with every kiss, I'd know more of him, feel more of him, until I'd know everything that I wanted and still that wouldn't be enough -- that warmth and closeness that is so powerful, which I can't really describe right now. 

I've never been held with such fragile, unsure and delicate hands. I've never had anyone look at me with such tenderness. That look haunts me too. I've never experienced a more sadder, parting kiss. Nor felt such powerful yearning for it. I've never been given the privilege of being anyone's first real kiss, how much of an honour and a fright that is. I've never been more curious of anyone in my whole life than with this odd boy, who knew nothing but to hurt the ones he loved and preserve only himself. It's an overwhelming thirst, really, that I am running of words to explain exactly. 

Well, shit. Aren't I just screwed. 

One of my best friends shelled me out quite recently and left me speechless. He said how, no matter how much I say 'I don't care' or 'I don't believe in love', that's all bullshit. I, of all people, believe and strive to find love and to have it, simply because I have yet to know and see it for what it really is, to have it for my own, and not see it through people, read about it through books, or have it taken away from me always. Like a candy cane being taken away from a kid. It is okay to fall in love, and to believe in it, even if every one around, including the object of desire, deflates every moment of it.

What do you say to that right? :))

I know I lost this battle. That I've lost him in a way, myself mostly, and a bunch other things. That's the answer, really. And it just saddens me that it all turned out to be so in such a manner. I don't understand it had to be this way. That's more on him than on me now.

Still, I feel hopeful. Of things to come, and such. There's that glimmer of light within me, it pushes me and wakes me and makes me want to fight -- for what, I have no clue. Yet. I feel strangely excited. I dare to dream big again. I want to see the world, find love, get hurt, that whole cycle, until I find what I'm looking for. I may have lost a lot of things, and I may be at one of my lowest points now, but then I'm also at that point where I can say, "And so what? It's okay." So, I'm not sure.... I just feel like smiling. Writing this was a good idea, I suppose.

Strange, how in this time of downfall and darkness is the time I find myself finally believing in me. 

I'm such a wack-nut. :))

I'd like to part with an inspirational quote I found somewhere, that helps me get by and makes me remember who I am and what I'm really made of -- how lost and afraid I am, how much I can love, and how much I need to remember to love myself, first and foremost.
"Character is when a person does beautiful things without seeking credit. It’s when someone doesn’t quit — even if every fiber of their being begs them to. It’s the ability of someone to graciously expend back-breaking heart-wrenching love to someone who has disappointed and failed them. Character is that beautiful thing that gets molded over time and experience. Be someone with character and never settle for someone without it."

If you read this extremely long post, thank you. You have been wonderful whoever you may be. If you're going through something, keep going. "It never gets easier, you just get better."

yours truly,

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