I'm but flesh and blood

As the reality of slowly losing him finally dawns on me, I begun to experience the nasty aftermath.

Waves and waves of memories of him and the things we did together just kept flooding into my mind, the more I tried to block them, the harder they came forcing me to face them.

I was reminded of the porposal he made to go London with him, the restaurant he said we were going to try next time, the holding of his hand when he was driving, the trying of my ring on his finger, the sharing of food, the many times we raced each other to pay the bill first, the games I thought of playing with him on the PS2, the power hugs, the tender kisses, the familiar perfume that he wore, the kiddy antics he did when he was happy..

All of which stood to remind me again that happy memories can be just as painfully heart-wrenching when they are recalled under opposite conditions.

I could barely concentrate on my work today, as the term 'driving me crazy' was rather apt in describing how I felt following the assaults of the bittersweet memories.

Many times I had the strong urge to sms or call him, but I asked myself what good would that do. If he couldn't bring himself to like me even after all our attempts, a few calls or sms would not change that.

Love is a many strange thing - the harder you try, the further away you'll get from what you want; the less you try, it tends to creep up on you unnoticed and even possibly uninvited.

Had I a choice now to choose whether I'd like to forget the things that happened for the past one month, I'd choose to forget. Because as it is now, I'm just too much of an embittered guy, willing to do anything to release the grief that is threatening to consume all of my heart.