Hard & Sharp

November 16, 2009

After some elementary sexual education, it didn't take me too long to figure out that I was made from premarital sex. My parents were married in May, while I was born in November. I was a love child. A Valentine's baby. I am thankful that at least, they got formally married before I was born, but it also makes me wonder if my parents really were meant for each other.

I wonder if my parents had a "love of their life". The one who somehow got away. Someone who took them years to get over. It's not a question I can casually ask my parents. And even if I do ask, I don't think they would give me an answer.

It is different when you're straight and have children. It gives a bond to the relationship. Gay relationships do not have that privilege. Maybe that's why it is very rare to find a long-lived gay couple. They only have their feelings and their word to get them by.

Just minutes ago, I searched in facebook the names of the two students I've fallen in love with. They both looked healthy, and happy. The older one looked thoughtful while reading a book, while the younger was beaming at the camera, proudly wearing a medal. Of course, they aren't my contacts there. Things have gone too wrong for them to still accept me even if I added them as friends.

I was looking at their pictures, wondering how my life would have turned out if I ended up with any of them. How would I have felt, enclosed within their arms? How would they have felt? And then I realized that I should stop because it will lead me to the wrong direction. These are feelings I do not need to feel right here right now.

Some feelings really do not go away. Completely.

Some people do not really change. Completely.

Sometimes I feel that my relationships always get rocky because of what happened between me and those two guys. They've somehow set the standard, and I panic and run away whenever my current relationship fail to meet the intensity of my feelings for those two. I have this twisted idea within me that if I can't love this person as much as I've loved those two then perhaps there is something wrong. And if I can't love someone the fullest I can give then maybe it is better to let go than be unfair to that person.

It's like I'm standing on the edge of a blade, every second I stay there hurts me and I need to let myself fall soon. On one side, someone will catch me but at the price of my individuality. It will be like falling into a trap since there will be no getting out. On the other, I will fall alone and be bruised at the bottom but at least I can be myself as I fall.

Outwardly, I am okay. My new students and friends see none of my struggles. Only the drums in Timezone feel how frustrated I really am with the unnecessarily hard beatings I give them.