A familiar feeling haunts me tonight. Restlessness comes close, but not quite; sadness doesn't nail it on the head; not depression, yet my soul feels subdued. I feel immobilized, paralyzed, capable only of sitting in a daze and thinking of you. All of a sudden, I am a vulnerable being again - I could cry at a trigger, and my neediness surfaces. I know what I should be doing, but for this frozen moment, I couldn't care less.

I miss you.

Confessions of a Pessimist.

Being in love is scary.

It's scary from the very start, when you realize that you've accidentally, unwittingly put your heart into the hands of another - who might not even know it. You try to take it back, you try to deny it, and you try to rationalize with yourself. You become well-acquainted with depression and hopelessness, caught between acting upon your desires and doing what is 'wiser'. You wish, you hope, you get mad at yourself for desiring something you shouldn't be wanting. The very reason you never desired anything so passionately was so that you could avoid this feeling altogether. What have all your efforts amounted to? Nothing. You despair at how helpless you are, you rage within because your pride has been taken down a peg. But you still hope.

Then he responds, and you feel a mixture of happiness and doubt. Happy that it's mutual, afraid that so many things can go wrong. Suddenly, you're overwhelmed by the fear of bumping into those hands, scared that you might knock your heart right out of them, onto the ground where it would shatter and break into an irretrievable million pieces. At the same time, your heart feels like bursting for joy. All these extremities of emotion are explored, and you wonder if your heart can take the emotional stretching. It doesn't seem possible, and the tightness in your chest leaves you gasping for breath at times. Every single word he says is filed up in your suddenly phenomenal memory, every single line analyzed for underlying meanings. Everything he does is magical. It's so wonderful, beautiful, that you're afraid it's too good to be true.

Things can only get worse, because they can't get any better, right?

What happens when the quarrels start, when the disillusionment sets in? What happens when feelings die down, or the magic wears off? What happens then?

What happens when people start telling you that long-distance relationships don't work 90% of the time? Do you keep hanging on to that fragile thread of hope, or do you take the side of realism as a defense mechanism? What happens when you realize that 9 years is a long time - a long, long, long time? What happens then?

These fears are not unfounded. These fears are real. These fears are valid. These fears are part of the deal.

But life doesn't happen all at once. It doesn't settle or confirm all your fears in one day, or even in a year. It takes a lifetime to be certain, and even then, you can't be 100% sure. It's kind and cruel at the same time. Kind, because you realize in stages that quarrels don't lead to immediate breakups, that the initial romance will - for all your idealism - eventually stabilize into a comforting, warm current of confidence that your relationship is stronger than that. Cruel, because part of your doubts and questions cannot be answered until the time comes. And you still run the risk of being hurt.

Perfect love casts out all fear. But imperfect mortals have their limits.

Open your eyes

So vivid the memory
I can still see into your eyes

So sweet the scent
The smell of you lingers

So soft the touch
Your fingertips glide and I shiver

So powerful the emotions
I can still feel you tremble

So loud the silence
The empty spaces between my fingers mourn in desolation

So far you are
Your secret smile blazes across my mind