Celebration of Another Love to Be Had

Inspired by Alain de Botton's recent post about Memory Journey, I am writing this piece to celebrate another love to be had, after all there's supposed to be a lot.

One of the central things de Botton says in this article is, "we should learn regularly to travel around our minds... and linger amongst the very best and most consoling life-enriching bits of our past." This is one of the reasons why I write letters and keep a journal, I extend the experience, to some degree, immortalize the event.

Now, I'm celebrating one of the happiest periods this year, when I dated a guy for longer than usual, I should've written about it while I was in it though. And although I am not at a level of comfort sharing specifics, I am virtually making it known that it was beautiful and deserves a place here.

One of the things I like most was the feeling of home. I felt safe and warm when I was with him (literally warm from his hugs). I delight in waking up all wrapped up in his arms, must be the baby in me. 

Another thing that warmed my heart was when he'd make little gestures to make me laugh. It's a human truth, we enjoy laughing. But the feeling is amplified when it's done by someone we admire. We'd send voicemails to each other, sometimes singing out of key, sometimes inane messages like "babe" in different inflections. These silly things would make me get up from my fetal position on a gloomy day.

His dedication to his business until now inspires me. I found joy in times when we'd stay in his house while he works and while I busy myself with reading or working.

Being with him felt right and felt that it was good for me, until that time when it didn't anymore. The realities of responsibilities and priorities soon caught up on our relationship. We couldn't come to a midpoint, so we decided to stop seeing each other.

It was a pragmatic and mature breakup, something that Hollywood would probably not take because it lacks drama. One that I'd want for my story though. 

So why am I writing this? Seems like a torture for someone who's moving on, to some degree yes. But that love story needs to be told, such moments when I feel alive deserves to be told, like an awesome trip. 

Also, I want to go on a travel around my head, revisit the beautiful things that has happened and remind myself that these things will come to life again, because they always do. I couldn't wait for the next time!

This is how I make sense of my story and I'm putting it out for my friends not be cynical and just say yes on another chance at serotonin overflow! 

Hopefully home becomes permanent the next time.