Leap of Faith
This has been my fourth attempt to write down the first sentence of this piece and so far I have not been satisfied with any of them, so I keep on writing and deleting and writing and deleting until all of these words have no meanings anymore. My heart is still beating faster than it should, and it is probably a physical reaction that is caused by a single piece of letter: written on a smooth, lined sheets of paper taken directly from the center of a notebook. The handwriting is distinctively neat, as if somebody wrote it on a computer with a faux-handwriting fonts and printed it out. Anyway, nobody would be stupid enough to do such a meta thing like that so the handwriting is real and it belongs to her. The person whom I met on a fine Monday afternoon, wearing all black like she always does. Virtually, I have stalked her online presence since years ago, laughing at her witty and charming tweets that surprisingly, describes her very well even in her real life. I was glad that she exceeded my expectations, almost in every possible ways. My feelings for her also, unknowingly, exceeded the limits that I have set for myself previously.
Before I met her, my version of love contained impossibility; a privilege that can only be grasped fully by the lucky ones, something that was so far within my reach. But then she just came out of nowhere, filling my days with endless contentment and gratitude, and at the first time I resisted the comfort. "This is not how it is supposed to be," I thought to myself. Then I let the truth unraveled itself in front of her very own eyes and tears started falling down from them, leaving her cheeks wet and my heart dry. It was such a hard decision to let her know almost everything about me, in such a short period of time, but I deliberately did it on purpose. I just wanted to make sure that I inflict a minimum damage over the people around me, especially those whom I love and whose happiness really meant something for my life. She was one of them; one of the previous jewels I wanted to keep left unscathed. In her words and her thoughts I saw a potential that was yearning to be fulfilled, and usually I am the one who would've stand in the front of the line to do it. Then again, my head said no and I backed off, leaving both of us in a void.
In the absence of certainty, we've asked ourselves and we finally see what is real. The reality lies in the present, where love is never a past tense nor future. It grows fresh everyday, like daisies in warm spring days, and it must've given us joy and not pleasure. We believe in something most people thought as unreal, and we choose to percieve it as our version of reality. All the cheesy lyrics from those Top 40 songs I usually hear can never fully describe what we feel, something that will never suit any general convention of love, but let's just call it love for the sake of convenience. Those songs tend to overrate the feelings with a preconcieved notion of posession, of lifelong attachment. Whereas the beauty of love lies on its uncertainty, on its fleeting nature just like the wind that passes through our skin. This version of love that we choose to believe in is equal with one of my lifetime favorite phrases: leap of faith. It requires bravery to accept the fact that feelings can change in a matter of seconds, and how people come and go the way they want them to be, yet we don't restrain ourselves from taking the leap, risking us with falling down on our knees and inflicting pain in our fragile hearts for one more time.
So we jumped. And I guess right now we are still hanging mid-air; our hands clasped tightly, our eyes closed, enjoying every miliseconds that is passing through before we land safely, or fall down freely.
Or maybe we will never land nor fall, after all.
