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Monday, May 14, 2018

The Itty Bitty Earthquake of Love



I have been blasting Rita Ora's "Your Song" for days now. The song made me realize: I was in love. And I am darn happy about it.

I know, I know I sound like a psychopath. The flow of my articles doesn't make sense. But listen, I lost my eyeglasses at the beach on Sunday. FYI, I am blind as a bat, and I lost it while just sitting around. Un-effing-believable.

Then I had to run home sobbing all the way from the theatre because a scene from a play reminded me of how the minority in Indonesia are treated. Those two showed how distracted I was about the Surabaya bombings.

F- yeah I'm gonna write about love instead.

And why not? When was the last time you were happy? The ideal answer would be you can't remember because it's just the norm to be happy, not because it has been far too long. Life shouldn't be that painful.

The thing is, we hold on to our pain and misery, yet not so much on our happiness. Which makes sense. Holding on to our pain allows us to be careful, to prevent ourselves from being hurt again.

Happiness, on the other hand, only make us feel more inadequate, especially when we can't be as happy as we were before. To say "I want to be happy again" takes balls, because happiness is not an easy feat.

But it is so rewarding.

I don't want to be stuck on how he's not in my life anymore. I want to remember the kisses we shared by the waterways. I want to remember his gentle breathing when he fell asleep in my arms. I want to remember his smiles and laughter.

I don't want to be stuck thinking I should have known better. I did. Yet I took the plunge. The big grin on my face when he texted me was worth it. The many things we did together was worth it. Falling asleep next to him on the couch was worth it.

I know I'm totally Taylor Swift-ing right now. Always. Because I don't want to forget. I want to remember the grief because it helped me to move forward. But I also want to remember the happiness, the excitement, the love.

Yes. It was love. Just like an itty bitty earthquake is still called an earthquake, I don't see why love has to be earth-shattering to be called love. Nor does it owe any explanation "I love that person because..."

Sometimes you ended up in love with a person, even when you tried not to [Ahem. Guilty as charged]. It's okay. Even when it fell through, you still get to taste Love. And that's awesome. Love is amazing and to experience it is always a privilege.

In this world full of pain and misery, let love flows like a steady stream. Walk towards it to find salvation, to drink from its endless flow. When you can't find any, keep looking. When you found it, carry some for your fellow travelers.

I have been blessed with love. The tokens of love I give and receive are everywhere around me. How does it make me feel? Grateful. Strong. Hopeful. For I have seen the best in human, and I know we can achieve so much more.

So go out there and fall in love. Enjoy the first kisses, the weakened knees, the butterflies in your stomach. Enjoy the feeling of how heavenly and fitting everything seemed. Enjoy the greatest gift humans are bestowed with: Love.

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