Writing for a day love comes back again
Each of us go through seasons, not unlike nature. There is a thriving era, a hot girl summer of sorts and there is a flop era, which some can consider a hibernation period. Fall of 2022 was my thriving era: new apartment, my first and possibly longest Texas summer ends, the sun is out until 7:30 pm, and appearances of new figures in my life who I was trying to impress and gain the affection of.
It was a sweet life, everything seen through rose-colored glasses. Life can be impeccable when everything is where it should be: your job, your life, that special someone. When I was “happy”, I could wax poetically about the wonders of the most mundane things. When everything came crashing down, it was then I didn’t know how to act: my writing got sloppy, my relationships abandoned and ruined, my job in a knot. I still managed to do things but with half the effort and efficacy I was doing when I was “happy”.
In February, I spent a lot of time alone. I distanced myself from all types of relationships because I needed the space to think and learn how to give and receive love again. I also read this essay (in Vietnamese) by one of my favorite writers about love. One of the things she wrote about that resonated is how contrary to popular belief: being alone is not hard, being in love is. She brought up the examples of the stellar, beautiful bachelors and bachelorettes in the show Single’s Inferno, all of whom are wealthy, smart, stunningly attractive. They seemed to have it all yet had to go on a reality show to find love. If they are such a catch, how come, love doesn’t go knock on their doors?
Coincidentally, an episode in Grey’s I recently watched reminded me of this precise irony. It was when Christina Yang was having to decide between choosing her boyfriend Owen or heart surgery by keeping Owen’s potential love interest but also a great teacher at the hospital. Christina posed the question to her fellow surgeon residents, between surgery and love, what would they choose? Unsurprisingly, most of the competitive bunch chose their profession over that mushy thing. If you asked me, at this point in time I would choose work too. I didn’t know this before but I know now that in a way, choosing work is choosing ourselves. Choosing work is choosing to be selfish, to put our priorities and needs before anyone else’s.
Working through all of this logic, I realize that I was happily single for so long not because I was unlovable. It is because I don’t want to put anyone first but myself. I don’t want to make space for another person. I don’t want to give them half of my life and time. I want freedom and independence. Loving might be one of the hardest things I have to learn. To be loved and revered is easy, I can just be there, existing. If I am feeling generous, I can reciprocate once in a while but a lot of the time, I can just be there.
Historically, I have always been attracted to guys who are ambitious and confident. They are wonderfully talented and they are well aware of it. However, a lot of them are emotionally unavailable, distant, and giving haphazard attention. They want the fun and occasional company but not the effort. They want their egos stroked and self-esteem validated. But one thing they have in common, they are not willing to yield.
I told my best friend this was karma because, in a way, I was seeing myself through these people. I was drawn to them because I was them. They were selfish and egoistic and I wasn’t any different. In the past, I have abandoned people who cared for me because I wanted the fun and not the commitment. I wanted to date people who are further ahead in their careers, sharper in the aspects that I am not because I could learn from them, and that alone benefits me.
Stepping back and taking a look at lasting friendships that actually work, the common denominator is people’s lack of ego. They are the least complex people I know, in a good way. They don’t calculate or manipulate. They don’t sweep me off my feet. They don’t leave me hanging or wish for more quality time. They are stable, consistent, reliable.
Those people have been the bedrock of my life. Without them, I would be falling apart or imploding with my own irrationality. They bring me back to the ground when I was being unreasonable. Being with them, time halts and nothing matters but the present. All of my dreams chasing, inflated ego, and ambition rendered meaningless. Only pure love is allowed.
It is cooking with my grandma in her small kitchen and the house I grew up in as a newborn, eating grilled take-out chicken and staring out in the rain of the Saigon sky with my friend D. It is putting on funky music and choreographing ridiculous dance with my cousin, making the filling, wrapping, and frying nem (fried spring rolls) while listening to auntie T talked about how she navigated the train system in Germany without knowing a single German or English word. It is the simple moments with these people that teach me love isn’t complicated. Love isn’t calculation and intense rationalizing. Love is predictable, easy, straightforward, warm, and safe.
I still have a long way to learn how to love but I want to start here.
If I could let go of what I have been holding on to so tight, maybe one day love will come back again and when that happens, I will be ready.
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I teared up at the image of cooking in the kitchen with grandma. wonderfully written, put words to things i had been musing too
I like to think of love as a hearth; the warm spot in front of a fireplace. It takes a moment after the spark to warm up. Once it does, it stays warm and cozy to sit by and listen to the crackling sound of the fire.