Is it ever wrong to miss someone?
Revelations in the early morning.
I've always told myself that my solipsism keeps me from feeling anything for another person. Feelings are not real; they're not tangible.
But here I am, writing about missing him. I do miss him. Stockholm's Syndrome, perhaps? I felt like a prisoner, and he felt like my captor. But I was his world, just as he was mine. Is that really such a bad thing?
'Never regret anything that once made you smile.' I'm doing just that - remembering why I smiled. Katya would smile.
I thought I'd be over this. In fact, I'd never have thought it would even come to this. Is this my 500 Days of Summer? Perhaps I will move on, but I could never forget.
To some degree, I find solace in the fact that I'm sharing these feelings with someone, somewhere. Maybe he still hurts because what are now memories to me are experiences he's still living. He hasn't forgotten the smiles, or the whys behind them. That magic is somewhere. But there won't be a repeat of this part of history. At least not now. Perhaps after his 500 Days. Maybe we're just waiting to miss each other enough to return. Maybe we need never return.
What is this love I'm trying so hard to define? Is that what should matter? What I need to define is happiness. If I know what makes me happy, I will know what I love.
My point is: I love remembering.
Because when the flood of mixed emotions that a moment encapsulates are over, only the good ones remain. We've been self-healing all along. It's just too soon to have realised it.
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