Side A, Side B
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
This is a famous line we usually hear in rom-com novels and shows. Sometimes it tells the truth (we go like, “Oh my! That’s legit!”), sometimes it’s just utter bullshit (“Die, you liar!”). Sometimes it serves as a person’s reason/excuse to let someone go or continue holding on. Romantically speaking, it says that when you like someone, his/her absence will make this affection grow, that, apparently, missing him/her will prove how dedicated you are. Absence will test your faith in this current or almost-there relationship.
This is kind of
confusing, if you ask me. Still romantically speaking, what if the absence of the person you adore makes you sad instead of making your “heart grow fonder”? What if this hollowed feeling drives you to seek other’s companionship? Missing someone doesn’t always lead to a deeper yearning and loving: sometimes it leads to just him/her
missing and you feeling incomplete, left and
missed.
But (here we go, everyone) if you consult my experience (which you wouldn’t in a hundred years), it will actually give you two sides of the coin (or mix tape, whatever): the Forgotten and the Yearned For (which will entirely
elevate your confusion). I’ve been into this “I miss you, so what now?” state. Under two different circumstances (i.e. two different guys), this cliché line led me into the massive world of confused one-sided infatuation.
Side A: The Forgotten
This is “I missed you along the way”, and it’s sad. There’s this one guy in my college. We shared several classes in the past semesters. We weren’t very close at first (because I found him really smart and yet distant), but when we had the chance (and the responsibility) to work closely and rigorously together, that was where my undeniably dormant hormones kicked in.
He was Weird Crush –
was.
I liked him for, like, two months only. The fondness stopped a few weeks after the semester ended. I think he’s really outspoken, artistic, a rebel, ridiculously photogenic and all that (and those are awesome qualities a guy should have), but I guess it was just a
rebound in all its aspect– that I chose him to be the subject of my suppressed feelings [for someone I wanted to forget], a
diversion nonetheless. Those were good times. The euphoria I got from seeing and joking around him helped me survive the last stressful weeks of school. I learned a lot from him, and I guess he’s one of the few people whose brains mesmerize me. I’m not sure if the fondness will hop back if I see him again or something, but that’s more of an impossibility since he’s leaving school and transferring to another (a neon sign is now flashing “this is a freaking clue, everyone!”). Maybe I only liked when I saw him in person. The sole thought of him doesn’t trigger my hormones to start their pathetic kicking again.
His absence left nothing but swirling
dust – useless, emotionally-incapable dust… unlike what this other guy annoyingly did.
Side B: The Yearned For
The opposite side of the coin (or mix tape) is the “I miss you each day and it’s both a pleasure and a misery”, and it’s crazy. I first met this guy almost three years ago in my first college, and – screw me – I never had the opportunity to forget that first day. I didn’t share any classes with him in my one-year stay in that school (which, thinking about it now, was a blessing; imagine if I actually get to work with him: I’d be a total klutz). We never became close friends, but I got to know him (through cyber-stalking maybe), enough for me to go gaga over and refuse to forget about him. So does that make this side a little sadder than Side A?
Yes, you got it: this is Great Crush – still
is.
True to his given nickname, he’s the person I never seem to forget (physically and emotionally). He’s the greatest crush I have. I can’t seem to move on from someone I never had. In some days I thought (or forced myself to think) that, finally, halleluiah, I had forgotten about him, that the feelings are diminishing. But one memory of him (triggered by some phenomenon) will open something inside me, like a doorway of a tightly sealed vault, a vault where all the unwelcomed emotions are dwelling. It also feels like an abandoned room: the memory of him acts as the power source that suddenly turns on and lights up the void. (See? Thinking about him actually messes up with my metaphors!) Never moving on from someone I’d been yearning from afar – for three years (goodness!) – is just
ridiculous. Right now I don’t know what to do about this state I’m in. Find another diversion (a guy or an activity), maybe? Just accept this pleasing burden, maybe?
Great Crush left nothing but
everything. His absence left a trail of himself – his laughter, his smile, his eyes, and everything else about him that I’m crazy about – all left in slivers – fragile, emotionally-attached slivers that create palpable ripples when roused.
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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
Side A, Side B
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
This is a famous line we usually hear in rom-com novels and shows. Sometimes it tells the truth (we go like, “Oh my! That’s legit!”), sometimes it’s just utter bullshit (“Die, you liar!”). Sometimes it serves as a person’s reason/excuse to let someone go or continue holding on. Romantically speaking, it says that when you like someone, his/her absence will make this affection grow, that, apparently, missing him/her will prove how dedicated you are. Absence will test your faith in this current or almost-there relationship.
This is kind of
confusing, if you ask me. Still romantically speaking, what if the absence of the person you adore makes you sad instead of making your “heart grow fonder”? What if this hollowed feeling drives you to seek other’s companionship? Missing someone doesn’t always lead to a deeper yearning and loving: sometimes it leads to just him/her
missing and you feeling incomplete, left and
missed.
But (here we go, everyone) if you consult my experience (which you wouldn’t in a hundred years), it will actually give you two sides of the coin (or mix tape, whatever): the Forgotten and the Yearned For (which will entirely
elevate your confusion). I’ve been into this “I miss you, so what now?” state. Under two different circumstances (i.e. two different guys), this cliché line led me into the massive world of confused one-sided infatuation.
Side A: The Forgotten
This is “I missed you along the way”, and it’s sad. There’s this one guy in my college. We shared several classes in the past semesters. We weren’t very close at first (because I found him really smart and yet distant), but when we had the chance (and the responsibility) to work closely and rigorously together, that was where my undeniably dormant hormones kicked in.
He was Weird Crush –
was.
I liked him for, like, two months only. The fondness stopped a few weeks after the semester ended. I think he’s really outspoken, artistic, a rebel, ridiculously photogenic and all that (and those are awesome qualities a guy should have), but I guess it was just a
rebound in all its aspect– that I chose him to be the subject of my suppressed feelings [for someone I wanted to forget], a
diversion nonetheless. Those were good times. The euphoria I got from seeing and joking around him helped me survive the last stressful weeks of school. I learned a lot from him, and I guess he’s one of the few people whose brains mesmerize me. I’m not sure if the fondness will hop back if I see him again or something, but that’s more of an impossibility since he’s leaving school and transferring to another (a neon sign is now flashing “this is a freaking clue, everyone!”). Maybe I only liked when I saw him in person. The sole thought of him doesn’t trigger my hormones to start their pathetic kicking again.
His absence left nothing but swirling
dust – useless, emotionally-incapable dust… unlike what this other guy annoyingly did.
Side B: The Yearned For
The opposite side of the coin (or mix tape) is the “I miss you each day and it’s both a pleasure and a misery”, and it’s crazy. I first met this guy almost three years ago in my first college, and – screw me – I never had the opportunity to forget that first day. I didn’t share any classes with him in my one-year stay in that school (which, thinking about it now, was a blessing; imagine if I actually get to work with him: I’d be a total klutz). We never became close friends, but I got to know him (through cyber-stalking maybe), enough for me to go gaga over and refuse to forget about him. So does that make this side a little sadder than Side A?
Yes, you got it: this is Great Crush – still
is.
True to his given nickname, he’s the person I never seem to forget (physically and emotionally). He’s the greatest crush I have. I can’t seem to move on from someone I never had. In some days I thought (or forced myself to think) that, finally, halleluiah, I had forgotten about him, that the feelings are diminishing. But one memory of him (triggered by some phenomenon) will open something inside me, like a doorway of a tightly sealed vault, a vault where all the unwelcomed emotions are dwelling. It also feels like an abandoned room: the memory of him acts as the power source that suddenly turns on and lights up the void. (See? Thinking about him actually messes up with my metaphors!) Never moving on from someone I’d been yearning from afar – for three years (goodness!) – is just
ridiculous. Right now I don’t know what to do about this state I’m in. Find another diversion (a guy or an activity), maybe? Just accept this pleasing burden, maybe?
Great Crush left nothing but
everything. His absence left a trail of himself – his laughter, his smile, his eyes, and everything else about him that I’m crazy about – all left in slivers – fragile, emotionally-attached slivers that create palpable ripples when roused.
← older / top / newer →
a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409
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Already several months had passed, and I am missing
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry more and more each fleeting day. There are just some things in life that we can never forget – especially that something that had given us knowledge, skills, strong relationships and a second home. I am glad that everything in the magical world is now at peace, since Voldemort (yes, I can now say his name; no need to be afraid) had died. I had secretly admired Tom Marvolo Riddle (Voldemort’s birth name) though, because of his intelligence, passion and love for magic. Wasn’t he very clever to think of and conjure his seven
Horcruxes to preserve his life, or form a clan of
Death Eaters who were very loyal to him and would give up their lives just for him to succeed? Not everybody can acquire that much loyalty from people these days. I do not, however, admire him for the way he had carried out all of his plans. He had a good agenda, his means just weren’t morally right. But he still is one of the darkest wizards of all time… and let’s leave it that way.
Oh, for all those who are baffled of what I’m saying here and who the heck I am, my name is
Christine Faye Ordas, and I am an alumnus of Hogwarts. I came from the bronze-and-blue-clad house of the smart ass witch Rowena Ravenclaw and her dictum
“Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.” And yes, I know the wonderful Luna Lovegood (she’s such a darling) and Harry Potter’s first crush Cho Chang. I had just left Hogwarts last May. Right now I am trying to pursue a career in magical researches, literature and writing. It’s my dream to inscribe intellectual books, publish and sell them in
Flourish and Blotts for the future Hogwarts students’ use. I am also planning to credibly write for the
Daily Prophet, the magical world’s primary news bulletin. And of course, I will be very much honored to contribute to Mr. Xenophilius Lovegood’s
Quibbler (hence, my interest in magical researches). I have always found the Lovegoods a fascinating family, and I bet working with and for them will be very exciting. Or maybe, in Merlin’s beard’s time, I can write legends and bedtime stories like the famous – and wickedly brilliant – Beedle the Bard.
And that’s how my life goes these days. I am utterly missing my old school, my friends, the Great Hall, the bronze eagle knocker just outside the Ravenclaw common room, Professor Flitwick (the head of our house), Hogsmeade, the Quidditch matches (although I didn’t actually play for the house), the moving portraits, the castle ghosts, the pumpkins on Halloween, the giant pine trees on Christmas, Rubeus Hagrid’s (Hogwarts’ gamekeeper) tea and treacle fudge – even the crabby Argus Filch (Hogwarts’ caretaker) I miss. Maybe I can visit the school grounds sometimes and see how the magical world’s been doing since Voldemort died (I’ve been spending my months in the muggle world, you see). I’ve heard everybody’s been moving on and starting all over again; the ministry is back on work under Kingsley Shacklebolt; and Harry Potter’s scar haven’t been disturbing him since.
All is well, indeed.
And because of that, we should celebrate and drink firewhisky! Oh, I still don’t drink firewhisky; I can take butterbeer or tea or pumpkin juice – just not firewhisky, please.
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