An Open Door

Love is an open door. I never really believed that until I saw your eyes the first time you hailed the room with your presence. I will never forget that day, that chance encounter when I saw the guy who held the key to my heart a few months later.

I remember the way you looked that day, you were glowing, you were shining, you stood out among your friends. You were smiling and laughing, you were happy. There was not a day that I didn’t see you smile. Soon, your smile became my smile, and your sadness became mine. You made flowers grow in me and gave me warmth, like an eternal winter finally coming to an end.

I remember the day I told you I liked you, you were smiling like crazy that I wasn’t able to keep myself from smiling too. I never told you this, but I already loved you then. I had already fallen for the way your eyes twinkle as I tell you a funny story, I had already fallen for the way you laugh at silly things, I had already fallen for every little thing you do, but I was scared. Love is scary that way. It makes you see things that aren’t really there, makes you believe in promises that aren’t real, and makes you hope for things that would never really happen. You see, I loved you then and I love you now.

I remember the way I chased you and how you stopped in your tracks to look back and wait for me. I remember how I’d tell you stories and things I wondered about and how you’d listen to all of them. I remember how you’d smile every time I tell you how much I adore you and how I see galaxies in you whenever you’d tell me how flawed you are. I remember how much I loved you, and how you allowed me to.

But love is an open door, and an open door entails coming and going. It continuously welcomes the people it encounters and bids goodbye to the people that leave. That was how I met you, and that was how I lost you too. Love is an open door, and as much as I want to close it, to keep you by my side, and to just get lost in you, I know that love is not meant to be that way. Love is not selfish. It is about giving the person you love the freedom to choose, while hoping that he chooses you. And if he does not, it is about allowing him to spread his wings, it is letting him go to discover the world, it is about giving him the freedom to fly even if the places he wants to travel are the places you’re not a part of anymore. Love is sacrificing your happiness, just so he could have his.

I remember how much I loved you, and how you allowed me to. I know you loved me too, and although it was a love that cannot withstand challenges and struggles, I am grateful for all the memories. So now, let me remember the end, allow me to remind myself that no matter how many times I revisit the beginning, our story is always bound to end. Let me remember those petty fights, the misunderstandings, and the tears. Let me remember the painful nights spent crying as I think about what went wrong this time and how I could fix it. Let me remember my messages that never received any replies because you were too busy to respond. Let me remember the memories, for even if they were filled with sadness and pain, I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else other than you.

Love is an open door, and I can still remember the day you finally decided to leave. I can still remember how I tried to fix something I didn’t know was broken, how I tried to pick up the shards of something that I didn’t know was cracked, I remember the pieces and how it wounded me trying to make everything better. My love, you may have left, but I stayed for you. For that, I hope you forgive me for holding on when all you wanted me to do was to finally let go. Forgive me for keeping the memories when you told me to forget them. Forgive me for loving you still even if you’ve already stopped loving me. Forgive me, my love, but let me remind you even though you’re away and probably not thinking of me anymore, that you are still the universe and a thousand galaxies combined for me, you are still the only star I would love staring at, you are still the sun that warms my winter days. Forgive me, my love for loving you and I will forgive you for taking the key of my heart away from my grasp, for keeping it in your palm and for not returning it.

Love is an open door. It was and it will always be open for the day you decide to return. And until then, I will be waiting for you, counting the days and months, counting the hours and seconds it took you to come back. And if that day never comes, and all we were supposed to be were two different roads that once met only to part again, then my love, can’t we just do it all over again?