Moving On

I've been having issue. Has it not been for Moby's post my relationship issue would never have projected to the spotlight of the blog. One fine September day last year I was gripped with the realization that I have fallen for someone. He was someone I thrived not to fall for, just like what Moby said in his post. Anyway, I gave him lots of attention, calling him and initiating conversations, which normally nudged to a numerous of terrains covering literature, arts, current affairs, and life. Somewhere on the road I realized he might not be the one but I persisted in giving my heart, thinking he might feel differently about me. A horde of conflicting emotions inundated my mind: anxiety, love, excitement, hopelessness, depression, fright. Until last month, I was confronted with the ultimate rejection. The truth was plain and cut-throat: he didn't feel the same affection for me as I feel for him (so I love him too much? I express my affection too soon?), and he constantly signaled to me about my unrequisited love and that he felt sorry to be the object of my yearning. Now that a month has elapsed since the painful confrontation, I'm excited I'm still capable of getting back up after I have fallen so deep. I haven't made any contact with him consciously, until I returned the e-mail Sunday night. I don't know if I can love someone (now, or in the near future) with the same fierce intensity and nuance of heart as I have loved him. The tincture of the unfulfilled love will cast a shadow of melancholy that would be concomitant to my being. The rejection, after all, is not as obtrusive and it seemed at the first place. The most difficult thing is to excise someone from my life in which he has grafted and left indelible mark. The light of all this drama is that my willingness to talk about it brings about the dawn of healing.