dancing alone

 "write drunk, revise sober"

I'm walking down the streets of Brooklyn on my own. The taste of Tequila from the past four nights of partying still lingers on my lips. I'm not too sure if I'm hungover, still a little high, or just tired - who would have thought that partying could be more tiring than work?

It's my last night in New York City. My friends have flown to Miami. I wish I could join them but unfortunately, I have to head home for work tomorrow. 

I have spent a total of five days alone on this trip. Traveling alone is an entirely different experience. It is liberating, it makes you feel pretty darn invincible, and yet it reminds you how alone you are in this world. 

Since eighteen, I've almost always had a companion to do life with. It's nice. To have someone to share everything with, to feel like you have an anchor. But it comes with its own set of anxieties and frustrations.

I've been learning to dance alone. It's scary but exhilarating. You are the author of your own story. And the people you meet become mere experiences. They come and go, leaving paragraphs in your novel. Maybe that's how life is supposed to be - nothing more than an experience. 

And then, there's that thin line between euphoria and hysteria when you're alone in your head. One moment you're soaking in the grandeur of the Manhattan skyline, and the next, your head is reeling from the profound pointlessness of life. It's a funny thing, I must say.

Nonetheless, I'll keep dancing. At least I've stopped wishing for this dance to end.

Now, would you like to dance alone, with me?

growing pains

Love is the most painful yet rewarding thing in the world.

This is my second failed serious relationship. And it hits differently. You would think that by now, you would have learned what it takes to make it work. 
 
I learned from my first break up that all it takes is the willingness to keep fighting for the relationship. If I hadn’t given up so easily, perhaps things would have turned out differently.
 
I practised this in my second relationship. Throughout our arguments, I never gave up. We knew that fights were just part and parcel of a relationship, and that we were good. We bulldozed our way through. And no matter how painful it was, we always chose to love.
 
But eventually, we came to learn that love itself is not enough. Love is not enough when your values and beliefs are in conflict. Love is not enough when needs are constantly not met. Love is not enough when you have different boundaries and expectations, and no resolution. Love is not enough when you are together, but forget what happiness feels like. 
 
When I was little, I never understood why people who love each other choose to go on separate ways. But I think I do now. Living with someone every day, and doing life together, requires much more than feelings of affection. It requires maturity, open conversations, an alignment of values, and a hell lot of compromise. 
 
I’m turning 28 this year. I thought that by now, I would have found my end game and be living in marital bliss. But life tends to make a fool out of us and take on a completely different trajectory. 
 
However, I’m not distraught. I think I’ve come to see that these are growing pains – the necessary pains that we experience in life to grow in experience and character. 
 
Call me naïve but I still believe in love. It is painful af but I know that when you finally get it right, it will be the most rewarding thing in the world.