It’s not that I don’t care about you.
It pains me sometimes, when Facebook’s notifications show that you have liked my latest updates. For one, it reveals your interest with what’s happening in my life. More importantly though, it reminds me of how far we have drifted apart when once we used to talk daily and catch the latest movies together. All these, have deserted us as we allow ourselves to be too occupied to follow-up. It crushes me when I see yet another friendship floating into the big blue sea, one beacon of hope now adrift in the space we claim to be our world, and yet we constantly take it and take you for granted.
I am not giving myself excuses. I know what I have done. More importantly, I know what I have not done. Overly-absorbed with my own world, my preoccupation with everything that connotes “me” knows no boundaries. It is always about what I am doing, what I will and want to do, who I am, who I will become, when i do this…… the I’s and me’s drag me down with their demands and I can’t help but be haunted by my English teacher’s unforgettable question, “What is the most frequently used word in the English world?”. Eager to hear the repartee, we groaned in earnest as one by one, the answers were struck down by our beloved sir. “I”. With his booming voice, he said, “We used the word i most frequently because we are the most self-absorbed creatures I have ever known”. Six years later, and I still remember clearly as ever, his words ringing, reminding me that I have, once again failed in being the aspired prolific writer that I want to be, because the word “I” has dominated the entire post.
Amidst the busy schedules we have mold into the concretized timeline that records our existence here, I often wonder how my eulogy would be written. This morbid preoccupation both depresses and encourages me – I am not good enough, I have to be better. The constant two-sidedness of situations and multi-faceted elements of life force me to be at a constant flux – reinventing and recreating are at my very core. I am sorry though to have left you out amidst my inconstancies, that I have easily thrown the words, Sorry I am a little busy to meet up right now , words I don’t even believe in but easily used because it is so much easier than saying, I am a little preoccupied with myself and the plans I have for myself to spend that time with you – after all, we are taught to not be rude since young, no? Yet. These irresponsibilities are solely my own doings and sometimes, at the end of certain days, I am left to ruminate the regrets and rewind the could have’s - we human beings will always be fickle and ungrateful with the present.
It’s not that I don’t care about you. Remember that, because I do. I have just allowed myself to drift apart so much that coffee conversations are now awkward and your smiles have become strangers, your quirks a phantom from the past and even the way you talk, that angle of your face are fast waning into something, someone I will no longer be able to remember five years later.
(This - this is something I have to fix immediately.)
Picture by Michael Barata