Letters to Love, Time and Death

Letter to Love

Dear Love,

I thought it would be easy writing a letter to you since I've had plenty of encounters with you in my life. Only now did I realize that I have in a constant, unconscious search for the you. That despite our encounters, I still haven't had the wisdom to distinguish you from your illusions.

Admiration. I used to think it was you because every time it was given to me, I felt special. I used to think that was enough. But it wasn't. One can admire certain qualities I possess but it's not enough to accept me—flaws and all.

Affection. If admiration made me feel special, this one made me feel treasured. For some time, it had been enough to latch on to anyone who can spare me some. Unfortunately, when a new one—someone prettier and more sparkly—I'm casted aside like some unwanted good. I am left hating myself for not being good enough. Then hating you for being fickle and weak.

Lust. In every caress and every kiss, I felt worshipped. In the throes of passion, one can say the words I love you but don't always mean them. I looked for you in every naked body that warmed my bed. I yearned to find you as my sweat-slicked skin slapped against another one. But after the horny feeling faded and the sheets turned cold, my heart was still empty.

There had been instances when I had you in my grasp. I could've been happy and content but I doubted if you were real. So, you left. There had been a few times when I thought I've finally found you. Only to realize we're not meant to last. Each hit and miss made me retreat further into myself. Until one day, I told myself I don't need you in my life.

At first, I was fine. All I had to think about was myself. I only have to worry about how I would feel. Until one day, I woke up not knowing the face in the mirror.

Each fake smile I plastered on face added another crack in my heart. Every lie I told myself made me doubt your existence. And every time I told myself I am happy alone, I was pulled deeper into depression. But it made me realize some things.

I realized why you've never stayed. One, during the first few times, I wasn't ready. You would've been too much to handle for me then. Two, because I wasn't ready yet, you were still preparing me. And three, I don't love myself enough. When I'm ready to accept myself, including my flaws, only then will I be open to loving someone whole heartedly and unconditionally.

I hate being okay because it meant being mediocre. For now, I'll settle for okay until I'm big enough of a person who can handle your magnanimity. So that when we meet again, I'd be happy to accept you as I am.

Being simply me.