The Existence of Reciprocity

It strikes me as rather ironic how just a little over a month ago, I was so afraid that he would get attached. Why is it that I am now at the other side of the playground? What happened? Somebody please tell me why it is seemingly me who has lost her footing and fallen off the precipice of that cliff they call love. I was so confident that I was the one who was in charge of this whole situation. I was so assured in the supposed control I had over how things were going. What road has life taken me? What moment have I seized that I now am stuck in a limbo of one question after another?

This is not how things were meant to be. This is not how I ever envisioned one single of moment of my life to be lived out. There is no living with all these questions in my head.

I took the plunge. Forgot the stairs and steps and all of that. This is where I ended up. What went wrong along the way?

I can never understand men. I probably never will. Whoever said that men were simple clearly did not know men. While it can be maintained, and never disputed, that women are far more complicated than any group of beings, men, I believe, trail closely behind.

But then again, I'm not being fair.

Men in general are vastly predictable. Women know this to be a fact. Do not mistake me. I am no feminist. In fact, believe it or not, as headstrong as a woman that I might appear, I do wholly believe in the traditional way of thinking that women should know their place behind the men. I have long ago cursed whoever gave rise to feminism and insisted that women be granted equal rights with men.

The world was a better place when women knew how to properly pour tea and to so eloquently reject the affections of a gentleman she had no interest in. It was a better place when it did not take much for a man to claim his own woman and call her his love and be done with all the complicated mess of 'being certain' and 'making it real'.

Because if there is a spark, then there is a spark. And one must not tarry while the flame flickers and the firewood burns away with no one feeding the flames for it to sustain its fire.

It is an unfortunate existence. One I would assume other people also live out. Surely I cannot be the only one suffering such a fate? Then again, it is not fair to wish this feeling upon others.

When Kian and Jem were always fighting because Jem kept on stressing about their future, I used to tell Jem to simply treasure every moment that she had with Kian. To be thankful for it. Grateful that every day, she had 86,400 seconds to appreciate his love. It did not matter if it was over when she woke up, because that 86,400 seconds was more than enough to be grateful for. And that when she woke up the next morning and realised that she had another second to be grateful for, wouldn't that feeling just be the best?

What I did not realise at the time was the agony of going to bed with such an uncertainty. I claim to love change. And I do. But just because something changes does not mean that it has to be uncertain.

Then again, I cannot fault him for his uncertainty when I am in argument with myself for half the time I am not bemoaning my fall from the safety of loving only myself. I keep trying to convince myself that at my age, I am far too young, and that there is a whole world yet ahead of me to explore and to appreciate. That this is not a point to commit to a relationship.

And I do believe myself. I do believe that there is so much more to live for.

But living NOW, in THIS moment, without the completeness that his reciprocity toward my affections can bring is enough to drive me mad. It is as if I am being denied the life I am supposed to live.

All I want is the moment.

Is that really so hard to give?