But a broken fragment

Very often, it is the slow mellow movie that touches your heart most. I remember the first time I saw the movie “the notebook”, I barely cried. Only at the part close to the end, it was a really brief scene, my tears just started rolling. When that movie ended, I felt empty. My heart was. I wonder to myself if love like that will ever be possible for an ordinary girl like me, if I will ever find love again in this sea of people.

I just finished another movie by the same author. Took me awhile to finally pull myself together to watch “Dear John”, partly because some said it was too slow, and partly because I didn’t like that empty feeling I always get at the end of movies like these. Again, I barely cried watching this movie, only at the middle part when the father died. That was, also a short scene. There was no ending to this movie, all the room for imagination, all the uncertainties; it left me here feeling all empty again. I don’t know really, I don’t know if I can ever pick myself up to face love again. It seems as if I’m chasing after love, chasing after a relationship with a certain someone, but end of the day, it calms me to know that it will never happen with this person. Maybe that was one of the reasons I kept chasing, the fact that we will never happen and that love will never be in the equation. I long for love, yes, I long to be loved, I even long for his warmth at night as he hugged me to sleep, but that is not love, barely even relationship. I don’t know what this is, really, all I know is that no matter how much I pretend to be chasing after love, I’m hiding from it. All to avoid the feeling of being broken hearted again.

I was never the same. I guess a broken soul can never be mended, no matter how much time has gone, it remain broken. Each day I became more introvert than I was the day before, each day I miss him less and less but the scars remained. Each day I grew further from my past but drew closer to pain. I became this other person after I got back from Manchester, because it was in Manchester I realized that I’ve finally let go, that I was finally okay. But it was also in Manchester I grew hopeful, and as I got back I’ve learnt that hope is one thing I should never have. Not for a broken soul like me no.