Love and Lost — The One That Got Away

Thank you for teaching me how to love, unconditionally and wholeheartedly.

People say, loving someone is easy, and losing them is hard. For me, both loving and losing are equally challenging.

To love is to give your trust and heart to another being whilst ensuring theirs are also protected and appreciated. Not an easy task, I suppose. Anxiety and a dilemma constantly occur. All the endless thoughts on how I’m not the perfect fit for you, but got beaten by your continuous reassurance and affirmation, my highest percentage of love gestures. All the rational justifications for walking away, but got beaten by the thrill of being together. All the terrifying possibilities, but it got beaten by the present contentment.

And I’m glad I did it. Pouring my affection into another beautifully remarkable person. We always knew, nonetheless, that our tale is as complicated, unfeasible, and lovely as Catherine and Heathcliff’s. But risking our hearts is why we are alive, isn’t it? And you are my favorite risk, and also my favorite crime, as Rodrigo put it. And I’m guilty as charged.

Uttering my feelings for you, loudly and clearly, albeit knowing the consequences. Proud is an understatement; I am amazed at how courageous we are. But bravery usually kills, as it did to Gwen Stacy, leading to Peter Parker losing her. As it did to us, too, our burning and audacious love towards each other leads to us going on our separate ways.

Stupid? I thought, but what we had was uniquely exquisite, pristinely true, and tenderly warm. There is no regret in loving, I learned, especially since you are the subject of the discussion. But as I wrote it from the beginning, an undebatable matter; losing is daunting. Even more daunting that losing you is not even an option, no more a disputable issue; it’s a must, an order, out of our control. This makes you, the one that got away. My one, that got away.