Coincidence is the start of something funny, perhaps love. It’s the first curl on someone’s lips after finding out you watch the same kind of movies. It’s the plans running in your head as you talk about this quaint coffee shop most people haven’t heard of. It’s a song slowly fading in on cue when you both laugh at an old stupid joke your neighbor used to tell. It’s when you share the same opinion about politics and then decide to talk about conspiracy theories instead. It’s the excuse hopeless romantics use to meet again on this upcoming event. Coincidence stops when they finally meet on the event and went for beer after. It stops when they arrange to go out the next weekend to watch a new horror movie. It stops when they check out the quaint coffee shop and realized it wasn’t so empty like they expected it to be. It stops when they both start making time for each other just to talk about aliens and the moon landing, to listen to corny jokes and cheesy songs, to decide to officially see each other and meet again and again and again. Coincidence stops when something funny finally happens, perhaps love. And probably commitment.
The picture evokes different kinds of emotions, but mostly the melancholy ones. Like waiting for something or someone that would never come.
P.S. Ever since I took this photo it has been etched on my mind. I hope you really feel something out of it.
Time will lead you back
to old conversations
to forced messages
to sweet words
Vaguely asking questions:
has the heart healed
is the love still there
did the pain go away
are feelings just dormant?
I hope in your mind the answers land.
Maybe the reason why the people we love don’t love us back is because opposite attracts.
But you two were honed from the same pole and one will always be repelling the other.
Daily Post’s Magnet.
The boy who cried move
was the one who can’t let go.
The girl who cried please
was the one who walked alone.
The stance that they took
was the fate they received.
But the fate is the enemy
becoming distant is the creed.
I dreamt of flying to a faraway heart of which the distance is just one step apart.
So close in touching the sky and yet so far in holding your hand, so easy to step on the ground and yet so hard for our lips to land.
I dreamt of flying to a faraway heart. But I never imagined dreams could be this short.
I dream of flying from a faraway heart. Your incessant indifference will be my passport.
To the one who liked me,
I know what you did last December. You hugged me, we were sleeping next to each other. I let you, I was trying to feel if my heart will waver.
But your hand on my stomach didn’t even make the butterflies come out, your breath on my head didn’t even bring any shiver down.
Swallowing for air, both of us are aware. Awake and aware. Pretending to sleep, we decided not to care.
In case you’re reading, I apologize for having written this down to paper. It’s just hard to ignore the words once they appear in front of you and make you remember. But I guess it’s not hard to ignore this particular letter, just like how we ignored what you did last December.
From the girl who liked another man
P.S. Some details are tweaked for privacy purposes.