스트레이 (The Stray) – 너, 너 (You, You)

While the Stranger post took around an hour to write, I’ve been writing this particular post in my head for the past two months. Back and forth from work, I would murmur under my breath words I can’t remember, until I realized the words I was hearing was coming from me, talking, to nobody. I would quickly turn around and let out a sigh of relief to find no one behind me, but perhaps I subconsciously wanted someone, or anyone, to listen. As I sit here writing, however, I am quite hesitant to fully express myself, scared that a handful of people who I don’t want reading would, once again, end up squirming at my bleeding sack of emotion. But I don’t write for you, I write for myself.

While I know this post is supposed to be about significant other, I want to talk more broadly about love, as I’ve always believed romantic love to be the only worthwhile form of love. Despite my strive to remain as free from emotion as possible, love seems to have always been a part of my life, and it’s difficult to write about love without having specific people or a person in mind. But what is love? I have always dreamed of spending my life with the one person I love, with all my life goals and fantasies involving that special someone, yet I can’t answer such a simple question as to what love is.

Love to me is better understood as a verb than a noun, and even then, it was not until my recent graceful fall that I’ve come to accept its verbal definition. As with any abstract word, people have different set of standards and rules as to what constitutes love. One action, or even any set of actions, can’t prove you love someone; there isn’t some sort of checklist where you go check, check, check, now I officially love you. And this is where I wrongfully try to apply my belief, a belief that a lack of evidence or confirmation leaves room for dispute, and should be disputed.

When we look at the physical world, almost everything can be explained with logic and observation. We know why the sun rises, why the sky is blue, and why the rain falls. Everything happens for a reason, and while they may not always be visible, we can pinpoint causes to the observable effects. And it’s inevitable for a person like myself, who has always been comforted by such concrete evidence of the physical world, to be unsatisfied with the little evidence emotion provides for the intangibles. Why do we love, or even before that, what does it mean to love? It’s no surprise that I’ve always shied away from expressing my love, even when deep down I knew I loved them, “I can’t tell you I love you because I don’t know what love is.” The lack of evidence in fact pushed me to question my love for them, “Why do you think I love you?” I would try to come up with reasons for my love, reasons that were strictly logical, “What if I love you for your qualities?”, biological, “What if I’m using you just for your body?”, or just plain stupid, “What if I love you because you love me?” With every question I asked, questions I thought were “right”, I’ve promptly ignored the very human nature of my partner. I loved her, but didn’t know why, and I said all too easily, “I don’t love you.”

What was I thinking? Well, it doesn’t matter because the problem is that I was thinking. What was going through my head while I was folding up those stars? Nothing, it just made me happy. Folding up her clothes to give back to her? Nothing, it just made me sad. Driving up in the rain? Nothing, it just made me happy. Waiting outside in the dark? Nothing, it just made me sad. Looking into her eyes? Nothing, it just made me happy. Crying in front of her eyes? Nothing, it just made me sad. If everything I did seemingly were guided by emotion and emotion alone, then I shouldn’t have needed a reason to accept the fact that I loved her. But I didn’t.

So, what did I learn from all that. Everyone says significant others are supposed to bring the best as well as the worst out of people. My loved ones have brought out my emotional side, and I guess some could call that my worse or worst side. It’s a side of me that I even get taken aback by, a side I have denied and repressed, a side I don’t have a clue how to handle once it decides to take over. But over time, I’m starting to realize that there’s no need to fight back. Emotions are just as valid of a reason as logic when it comes to love. It’s OK to love someone without knowing exactly why, and not knowing why doesn’t necessarily mean I don’t love them, not at all.

Honestly, life has never been better. After my year long slump of self-loathing and self-pity, I’m at a spot where I can say I’m happy. I’m surrounded by people with character, have a caring family, an encouraging group of friends, and have enough time and money to try out new things I love. I can leave for anywhere for the weekend without letting anyone know, I can skip any meal, I can dye my hair ash grey, sleep any time I want, I can even sing at the top of my lungs at midnight. I can do whatever the fuck I want, but… anything I do seems to lack purpose or meaning. I feel like I’m stuck in a museum, where at the center stands a piece of art I trampled all over. I try to get get close, Do Not Touch. I try to get another glimpse, Do Not Look. I try to get its attention, Do Not Speak. Where’s the Do Not Think, the Do Not Dream, and the Do Not Hurt?

The emotional switch I believed in seems to have been broken. I thought I still had it, thought it was just a matter of me not flipping it, but it doesn’t work anymore. Click, click, click. Nothing.
나는 아직 여기있는데.