.png) |
| quirkysnob's document |
Joni Mitchell said, "Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone" in his song "Big Yellow Taxi." I also saw a quote on the internet: "You don't know what you have until you lose it."
I start wondering why everything seems precious once we lose it—a moment, a thing, a person, or even a feeling.
Life after a breakup was really horrible. It's like your flight is going through turbulence with lightning stirring in the sky, and all you can do is just pray and believe the whole journey will be completed to the destination airport, or you can just stay calm trying to sleep to forget the current situation.
It's not only about missing the person and the relationship, but you also have to condemn and bury deep the dreams that you stacked together with the person.
Around five years ago, I met someone with a fit posture, a bass voice, and a quiet, calm demeanor. He stared at me once, and I nodded at him with a smile. A good communication started then, and the feeling grew stronger, ending with us falling harder.
At first, I thought we were like antitheses: He was so well-structured and prepared, while spontaneity has always been my best friend. He hated crowds; I liked singing out loud. His calm pace must have run with the husky tempo of mine. He loathed being on camera, while I enjoyed taking lots of pictures.
Arguing was like our thesis, and breaking up was like a cycle. Silly to say that we always split up like 9e0837937 times, But in the end, we always found a way to come back together.
Until the day I realized that sometimes maybe we were antitheses, but other times he was like a reflection of me.
The plane is still flying with horrific scenes and dreadful imaginations of crashing from the air, Because all those tremendous differences embody the strength of loathing tension, the worst ones— The nightmare of not getting along in the future.
Love was never meant for us to dwell in.
[[let's see where the weather will take us in the future]]
.png)
