The Special Somewhere (Only We Know)
A Sentimental Life Story
Discarding unused items is one of my focus practices for approaching midlife. It’s intentional living, reinventing the new me, as part of the ‘moving on and don’t look back on the outdated years of youth’ program.
This morning I sat down, sifting through the dust-covered, forgotten remnants of my past. Boxes, books, photo albums; each item whispered my yesteryear story. Nostalgia is my favorite place.
In the piles lay a tiny box labeled ‘PN.’ Just the sight of it made my heart flutter with excitement, anticipation, and longing.
I remember two young love birds in there that were separated by their inevitable divergent paths in life.
We’ve all got that special person. The one who holds a permanent sunny spot in our hearts, regardless of where life takes us, and no matter the distance or time.
I met mine in 1995.
PN is like my favorite book, a collection of love poems I still don’t fully understand. He’s been on my shelf for the longest time, but I never finish reading.
Even though I feel like I contributed a great deal to writing it, I still can’t tell what genre it is. I believe it’s a love story, a vague kind that wouldn’t fit into only one category.
PN entered my life as I began my freshman year in architecture school. He was two years my senior, and in Thai culture, that instantly placed him in a respectful relative position as an older brother.
An older brother meant protection.
The first time I ever got close to a man, was in his arms. He used his body to shield me from drunken men’s scuffle that broke off so fast and unexpectedly. We were not together then; that was how he intuitively revealed his feelings for me.
So it began with a First Love: an intense, excited, and euphoria of experiencing romantic feelings for the first time. It was a strong attraction, and the emotions were undoubtedly high. Everything lay in the keyword ‘first’, which gave it an exclusive place of loyalty to every feeling. The one and only, first time.
Then it developed into a Romantic Love interest. There was a ‘potential’ intimacy and trust between two people, us-against-the-world, Jack and Rose kind of love. But before we could establish a foundation, or realize the complexities of a real-life relationship, I had to move to Australia.
A Star-Crossed Love: I was in Australia, and he was in Thailand, then England. We met briefly in Australia once, and that was it, memories and nothing else. I went back to Thailand once for a month, we briefly met but I had to return to Australia. Then he took off to Germany as I was still in Australia, we still connected in this difficult time zone. A tough, long-distance relationship in a none-exist-internet time that morphed into;
An Idealized Love: a phase of romanticizing our short-lived past, an ideal courtship that existed only in our imagination and boxes of love letters. It was the by-product of our unfulfilled potential that never had a chance to fully develop due to the circumstances of our lives. We were drowned in the sense of what could have been: regret, sadness, despair, and nostalgia.
After trying to negotiate my internal conflicts (my self-doubt, my low self-esteem, and the increasing rumors I couldn’t verify), it was painfully overwhelming that I decided to break it off, and out of the blue. I couldn’t trust that someone would still love me this much in a 7,532 km distance between us when I didn’t even like myself.
This decision opened up many paths life could take, and many forms of love I didn’t know I could experience. But one thing remained, I always knew we would be in each other’s life.
In these years, I had periods where I was single, but he was in two long-term relationships consecutively. The timing was never on our side.
Unrequited Love: was my new experience. I learned to feel the tension between desire and the inability to act on those feelings. For years, I made friends with it before he left again; this time, out of my reach indefinitely.
He left to marriage, but not to me, which turned it into a forever, Unattainable Love.
Attending his wedding was like… I still don’t know what it was. It was confusing. It was a bittersweet goodbye, even though we were experts at saying goodbye to each other, but this time was different. There wouldn’t be a re-entering of him in my life. It was always my name written on that special place in his heart. It was my place but not after today. Not ever again.
Heartbreak, after a certain number of repetitions, ceases to mean anything. He now froze in a permanent place of yearning for, but can no longer be reclaimed.
“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.” — Charles Dickens, “Great Expectations”
It’s unfortunate that no one can escape the brutal deficiencies of youth. The feeling of being insignificant, inferior, and having no self-esteem. I was lucky to have him taught me the concept of self-love.
He opened my eyes to see myself in a new light, a light of admiration and affection, something that was absent in my family. His love inspired me to get to know who I was and to receive the love I never thought I was worthy of. He gave me a deeper understanding of myself and my place in the world.
Reflecting on how far life has come often leaves me in awe. The journey has been remarkable from who I once was to who I am now. Especially in the realm of love and relationship with other humans, I owe it immensely to the meaningful journey with him, my PN. My redemption and realization of self-love wouldn’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for his love for me.
My memories of him recount splendid sentimental feelings of longing, a sweet spot where sadness and joy harmonize. They can make sad songs sound beautiful, even in tears. They give me the feeling of being alive.
We still meet in my dreams on some quiet, peaceful nights. No matter how long we haven’t met, the memories of us never fade. The young love birds still chirping in there, somewhere only we know.
Thank you for spending time with me today.
