500 Days

10 years ago, I watched 500 Days of Summer for the first time. I didn't like it then. 

Today, it made me cry. 

It happened when Tom had a pivotal moment in Summer’s apartment and he was convinced that she was finally tearing down her walls and letting him into her world. Warm, wetness rolled down my cheeks when I realised that Tom is me. Like Tom, I've let people in, built castles and expectations around their existence in my life so big and high that I ignored all the obvious signs - signs of them not wanting to be in a relationship, of them not being ready, and of their circumstances causing them to not be ready. 

I've led myself on.

But when a relationship/friendship (God, I don't even know what you can call it) gets this messy, it's hard to put a finger on who's right or wrong. Tom was searching for someone or something to make him happy, and in this case a relationship, which he thought he found in Summer, while Summer was not looking for anything serious, just casual fun and simple friendship. As they got closer, I guess Tom thought that he could change her mind. He was convinced he did when she opened up to him with something that she has never told anyone before. 

I, on the other hand, have always had a habit of connecting dots, whether they exist or not. Slowly but surely, the non-existent dots filled the empty spaces between the ones that are real, and eventually, the big picture becomes flawed.

I’ve disillusioned "I don't want to be in a committed relationship" as "Let's just get to know one another and eventually fall in love." For the past five years, I thought I had real love. Fought hard through the frustrations, the hurt and disappointments for a bleak future that I wasn't sure existed. Don't get me wrong though, we loved each other deeply, cared a hell lot for one another. But he was in a different, difficult place while I was ready to take on full responsibilities for a committed relationship. Well, I was young and naïve then.

And then you came along. There was something about you that draws me to dig deep into the wells of your soul. You’re exuberating, opinionated and witty and man, we connect so bloody well. I was smitten alright. That night, you asked me where I thought this was headed. Naturally, I assumed you meant us as an entirety, only to realise later that you just meant the exact moment when we were seated on your room floor. 

I knew that it was nothing serious, but it still felt like a shard of ice to the heart to hear you say that you were not looking for a relationship. The funny thing was, you even reminded me of what I’ve said when we first met, that there is no such thing as “right person, wrong timing”. Dumbfounded, I felt like shoving my own foot down my throat.

Despite all these being said, I still don't think I'm in love with you. At least not yet. So why did I cry while watching 500 Days of Summer, you might ask? I guess it's because I fear of me falling down into that rabbit hole all over again. I was in a limbo for five years, and I can’t bear the thought of going through another period of that same/similar experience.

Then again, what I didn’t know then, do I know now? 

"If Tom had learned anything, it was that you can't ascribe great cosmic significance to a simple earthly event. Coincidence. That's all anything ever is. Nothing more than coincidence. Tom had finally learn that there are no miracles. There's no such thing as fate. Nothing was meant to be. He knew. He was sure of it now. He was pretty sure."

Until he met Autumn.

So, maybe this time, I might find inner strength to put my foot down to say that casual relationships are not for me. Stay strictly platonic-friends, or not at all. And perhaps you were even right to believe that it isn’t the right time, and only God knows if we were even each other’s right person in the first place. Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally skip over the rabbit hole and hop onto the other side of the unknown, ready for what's to come.