The Thing with Letting Go

They said someone you want might be not the one you need. If they were the same person, well then, consider yourself lucky.

Him
She was a good friend, the best one someone could ever have. She was nice, funny, smart, and it would be a lie if I didn’t mention that she was pretty. We started going home together about two or three weeks since we first met in the campus park. I always love to have company when going home; company means that I have someone to talk to, to share food with, or to spend the awkward, boring hours whenever I was stucked in heavily jammed traffic. Her house was only one block away from mine, so it was not a big deal, not really important.

Or so I thought. She was a good listener and a wonderfully talented problem solver: she listened patiently every time I have problem with my girlfriend and solved the problem just in an instant. She got me: my problems, my life, my jokes. She was like an angel to me, my fairy godmother or something. That was when I realized she might be much more important to me that I ever thought. There was an empty space in my daily life only her could fill. By the time my girlfriend and I decided that we could not be together anymore, she was always there, tried to cheer me up with her quirky jokes or baked me some cookies and cakes or just sat beside me as we share an earphones and listened to the music together. We had developed the need for each other in an instance – well, at least I had. That was the time when I realized how big the space in my life she has filled. And that I was pretty sure that I was falling in love with her. Perhaps I have always been, this whole time.

I wished she know how I feel.

I wished she feel the same way.

I wished we could be together.

I really do wished we could be together.


.....


Her
I really did hope we could spend more time together.

Honestly, for me, he has the perfect package: he gets my jokes, loves the same music, kind, witty, cute. Yes, those whole package. I thought I have fallen in love with him since we began to go home together – an unintentionally, unplanned, accidental crush. The end of the day would be my favorite part of all, when we went home together, talked about things. Well, mostly we talked about his problems, which mainly caused by his girlfriend. But I didn’t mind, really. As long as I could hear his voice and laugh with him, listening to things he and his girlfriend have done wasn’t really a problem. Who knows I could be this kind of cheesy person.

When he broke up with his girlfriend, heaven knows how much I wanted to tell him the truth about my feeling. I didn’t really care whether he felt the same way. I just wanted to tell him, because I thought that by telling him it would take some of the burden on me. I just wanted him to know.

I wished I could tell him.

I wished I could always be with him.

But guess whose parents still do arranged married for their children until this day?

Yeah, mine.


.....


A clear, blue sky is decorated with brightly shining sun. The airport terminal is not as crowded as usual, but still there are chatterings here and there, as well as several late passengers hurry to the check-in counter.

10 minutes to check-in time
“You came!” he exclaims happily as she approaches him, both of them smiling.

“Of course I did, I won’t be seeing you until next year,” she drapes her arms on his neck, gives him a fast, casual hug. He sees a glimpse of her left hand when she hugs him: there is a ring on her finger. A silvery ring with small, bright blue sapphire on the middle of it. He sighs as their hug broke.

“Nah, not next year. I’ll come home at the end of semester. You know, for your...,” his voice trails slowly.

“...ah. Wedding, yes,” she completes his sentence with an awkward smile.

“Yes,” he replies with a smile, a sincere one.

Her body is fidgeting awkwardly. She thought he wouldn’t come to her wedding. Well, she has another six months to prepare anyway.

“Well then, good luck for your study. Take a good care, will you?” she smiles, now more sincerely than the last one. 

“Sure, I will. Thank you,” he replies before adds, “now, how will you going back to your place?”

Again, she fidgets a little bit as answering, “Hmmm, he is waiting for me at the cafe. You know, the one over there.” She points her finger to a small cafe, not so far away from them. “He said he wanted us to have our privacy, since we thought you wouldn’t come to our, ah, wedding.”

“Tell him I would not miss it, not my greatest bestfriend wedding. Give him my regards, as well,” he smiles as he takes a glance to his watch, “ah, it’s my check-in time already.”

She smiles reluctantly and hugs him, again. And this time, she gives a whole-hearted hug. This time, he is the one who breaks the hug, but he still hold her hand.

“Send me e-mail when you’re already there,” she says while he answers by nodding his head.

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

With that, he lets go of her hand.


The thing is: it wasn’t hurt. Well, it did at first, when all those anger to her parents, hate to the community who shaped the culture, and jealousy towards him mixed up in my mind. It hurt really bad back then. But as time passed, it seems like letting go is the right decision. After you let go,the ache would vanish, then you would see the world differently. It was like the colours are more vivid, the sun shone brighter, the sound is much clearer, and the scents are, in some sense, sharper. One last thing I learned from her: letting go is somehow liberating. You finally could accept the fact that the thing you wished to happen wouldn’t ever happen and you were fine with it, thus you could continue to the next phase of your life. It liberates you so you could focus on your next wish, your next journey. That was what life do anyway : it goes on.