I’ve been having a sub-par weekend, with a combination of gastric pains, nausea, headaches and backaches plaguing my otherwise usually good health. I’m feeling better, but still very weak and not up to doing or eating anything. My mom – best mom in the world – has been quietly nursing me to health, and we’ve watched a couple of movies together, just us two.
I’m a big fan of relatively old movies, so we watched Home Alone & Home Alone 2, and we also watched My Best Friend’s Wedding, which is one of my favourite movies. It’s hilarious, but the underlying message and meaning of the movie is sad. You don’t always get what you want in love.
There were many points during the movie when Mom and I were just like, “Why can’t she just say ‘I LOVE YOU’?!?!” Like, just say it girl!! JUST SAY IT!! Just say it before it’s TOO LATE. But no, she couldn’t. She wasn’t weak, but she was weak in a way, you know? She couldn’t bring herself to say it – I don’t know if it was pride, fear of rejection, not having enough courage, I don’t know.
I used to be like her. I used to not say it. I’m one of those cowards who, even after a guy I fancied told me he likes me, won’t say a word. WHY? Because I was just dumb. For the lack of a better phrase, I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know the ins and outs of being in a relationship, even though I craved and deeply desired to know how it was like to be in love.
Then I grew up and fell in love, for real. I wanted to say “I love you”, but, like Jules in the movie, I never knew when the right moment was. I was careful. Too careful…until it was too late. When I finally did say it, or in my own, warped version of it, the ship had sailed and I realised, with the heaviest pang in my heart, that I had lost this man forever.
From then on I continued to find the next one, the next right person, hoping to right this wrong. But I erred. I stumbled. I failed miserably. I felt miserable for months, even once going to a therapist because I thought I was going insane with not getting over it. Friends commented that I don’t look happy anymore. It lasted for a long while. I went out a lot, laughed a lot, but didn’t mean it. There was always a shadow within me; fragments of it still linger today.
It wasn’t until a year and a half later that I made a spontaneous, spur of the moment decision to visit him again. And in that day, I realised that even though it felt like no time had passed, a lot had happened. I didn’t see it then, but I see it now; we were just never, really meant to be. That saddened me for a long while, but I closed that chapter of my life and moved on for real. I started to embrace life again and enjoyed being single even, until one day, by utter coincidence, I met The Boyfriend.
When The Boyfriend told me he loved me for the first time, I thought it was too early. But after almost two years together, I realised that he said it because he truly felt it, that even though he knew he was taking a risk, he didn’t care because he wanted to let me know, just in case that there was that possibility – not matter how slight – that I felt the same.
And I did feel the same. I still erred, and didn’t tell him until weeks later. I thought it was a big deal. But now I realise that it would be very foolish not to let him know. I would have missed my chance, yet again.
So for all of you who have yet to say it to the one you love, I urge you to do so. The risk is there, but at least you’d know instead of living a life time of “What if?”s.
With that, I’m going to retreat to bed and continue feeling miserable for my sorry (ill) self. Happy Sunday!