"The trouble with hello is goodbye.."
The last line of the song haunted me long after the last notes faded away. With my failed romance with him in mind, I realize how true this is; how poignantly true indeed.
Suddenly, all the memories crept back unbidden. From our first hello. To our everyday hellos. To our everyday goodbyes. To our last goodbye. And, with the memories, the pain, which had never quite left me, is washed anew. The wound that I've desperately tried to heal is opened again and the memories are rubbing it like salt.
Sometimes, in my utmost misery, I find myself wishing that I would have been better off had I not known him. Knowing that nothing that's good lasts forever, knowing that with a hello there's bound to be a goodbye, I shouldn't have had exchanged hellos with him.
At the time when I realized that he has already drifted away beyond my reach, I feel like the world is closing in on me; that everywhere I look there's just bleakness and hopelessness. Coping with a broken heart seems like the hardest ordeal I have to overcome.
However, when I think of how good it has been, I can't help but be grateful that I have come to know such a very special person and that for even just a very short time, I had known how it is to be taken cared of by him.
Ironically, thinking about the perfect moments he shared with me somehow strengthens and empowers me to rise again from this miserable trench that I've plunged myself into. Remembering the way he looked at me somehow gives me the hope to fight back and reclaim what should be and really is mine. And that even his arms may now be around a raving beauty and that even if he claims that he can't imagine spending the rest of his life without her, still, reminiscing about how we both felt when we were near each other somehow revives me and my resolve to see him again and remind him of how it all was.
It is true that if you love someone, you have to set him or her free. And if he or she comes back, then it's meant to be. But before I let him go, I must first show and remind him of my love for him.
I may be wrong in that seeing him again may be like a slap in the face; perhaps there really is no love to reclaim. But until then... Until then.
The radio then played another song. "Love begins with one hello"."Starts with one hello". Perhaps one hello would bring him back.. Perhaps, this time, there'll be no goodbyes..
Perhaps.
The last line of the song haunted me long after the last notes faded away. With my failed romance with him in mind, I realize how true this is; how poignantly true indeed.
Suddenly, all the memories crept back unbidden. From our first hello. To our everyday hellos. To our everyday goodbyes. To our last goodbye. And, with the memories, the pain, which had never quite left me, is washed anew. The wound that I've desperately tried to heal is opened again and the memories are rubbing it like salt.
Sometimes, in my utmost misery, I find myself wishing that I would have been better off had I not known him. Knowing that nothing that's good lasts forever, knowing that with a hello there's bound to be a goodbye, I shouldn't have had exchanged hellos with him.
At the time when I realized that he has already drifted away beyond my reach, I feel like the world is closing in on me; that everywhere I look there's just bleakness and hopelessness. Coping with a broken heart seems like the hardest ordeal I have to overcome.
However, when I think of how good it has been, I can't help but be grateful that I have come to know such a very special person and that for even just a very short time, I had known how it is to be taken cared of by him.
Ironically, thinking about the perfect moments he shared with me somehow strengthens and empowers me to rise again from this miserable trench that I've plunged myself into. Remembering the way he looked at me somehow gives me the hope to fight back and reclaim what should be and really is mine. And that even his arms may now be around a raving beauty and that even if he claims that he can't imagine spending the rest of his life without her, still, reminiscing about how we both felt when we were near each other somehow revives me and my resolve to see him again and remind him of how it all was.
It is true that if you love someone, you have to set him or her free. And if he or she comes back, then it's meant to be. But before I let him go, I must first show and remind him of my love for him.
I may be wrong in that seeing him again may be like a slap in the face; perhaps there really is no love to reclaim. But until then... Until then.
The radio then played another song. "Love begins with one hello"."Starts with one hello". Perhaps one hello would bring him back.. Perhaps, this time, there'll be no goodbyes..
Perhaps.
No comments:
Post a Comment