Uploading Attachments

NETWORK CONNECTION ERROR.

The server is not responding. Uploads have failed to attach. System failure, malfunction alert, operating system crashing…

REBOOT.

. . .

Restarting your machine may take longer than expected, after all yours is a complex sentient machine. You have to process the data loss and re-evaluate the update.

You may not have realized at the time you began your connection that it was something you wanted to be a lasting feeling. You thought then, that it was just a mutual ‘coalition’ with an air of breezy romance coupled with flirtatious passing comments. Nonetheless, aura of new relationships never fails to excite you; though you may deep in your heart know that you do not have the patience to nurse this long and grueling process, so it may not even pass the initial stage of stolen glances, flurried touches, and butterflies tingling in your stomach, you still find yourself utterly disappointed when you realize the attachment you had been trying to upload has failed.

You find yourself questioning whether you acted too fast, if you made your move too soon? You obsess in spiraling roundabouts of confusion whether it was your inability to wait, to delay the inevitable climactic encounter that would ultimately impact, either with smiles or with sadness, the course of the continuation of your relationship. You look behind you at the road taken, and you are certain that it was not just your own conviction, but rather a reciprocated eagerness to partake in the kairos. So how could it be your fault that the server was not responding. Clearly there had been some kind of unforeseen malfunction, an underlying unmentioned dormant virus, laying beneath the surface waiting for the opportune moment to make itself shown, crashing the server completely.

The virus now had complete hold of the server, there was no way through its firewalls so high that you could not find a way to reach in and reconnect. No matter how you tried, the virus just kept sending in advanced defense mechanisms, the walls got higher, thicker and more and more distant until all connection to the server flatlined.

Your attachments, now fell crashing down. The crash caused more damage to the operating system than expected. You stand there at the foot of its pile of broken feelings, watching the integrity of the system failing around you, pieces falling out of the very floor you stand on, the sky slowly blacking out pixel by pixel, rejection and regret filling in those empty black squares one after another until you are wholly consumed by its sticky dark glue of self-depreciation.

You also understand that though you may have entered into this chaotic simulation with mild intention, a subconscious urge for a fulfilling human connection, had found some eager feeling ready to formulate themselves into a solid program, and you may have developed a sense of blind hope in a glimpse of a possible future. Yet now, while you struggle in the solitary confinement of your own mind, you stare at your demons in the eye facing the dark shadow of what might have been. They ask you why you are just SO unlucky in love? What is it about you that makes you crave a deep affection so profoundly and yet despise the process of its creation so intensely? You wonder whether to blame only yourself in the mistakes of your past relationships, or were your choices mere reflections of an effect after a cause out of the world around you.

Your next step is to upgrade your system, with a stronger antivirus protection, and solid core stability. This update may take months or maybe years to fully complete. Yet you must decide whether updating to an abstinence program would benefit the system’s capacity for forming real personal connections in the future? and would it be worth it in the end?

Gooey; Replay

It hits you like a glue bomb, when you realize you have feelings for your best friend, a sticky mess, that all over you; it’s in your hair, between your fingers, it’s glued your heart to your throat and you walk around with the nauseating pulse beating loudly in your ears, you cannot swallow, you want to speak, but the words are stuck in it’s gooey hot mess. The thoughts fluttering in your mind, the restless nights wondering how to get your words out, or even if you should speak at all. You go about your day, wearing a mask to hide the burning ache you feel inside, the truth struggling to break out of your chest, its fiery need to transition from thought to reality takes all your heart’s strength to hold in place. Fear of rejection and anxiety of reaction intertwine like vines, dancing its way up your spine.

And after finding the courage to finally tell him that you care, after months of deliberating whether it was the right thing to do, wondering what it would do to your relationship – friendship. And he says “I don’t feel the same way”… And though you knew in your heart of hearts that this was going to be his answer, there is no more room for wishful thinking. You stand there facing nothing but the truth, that there will be no room for anything more than what exists now. So you face this reality, though now feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable; you are more susceptible and sensitive to old wounds and lost-loves.

You sit and wonder, though ‘why?’ or rather, ‘why not?’

Your feelings for him were not those of passion and desire, they were deeper rooted, not a mere passing crush, it was a wholesome care that engulfed his being like a bubble, it was a friendship, it was a love, it was a seed grown through a year of small understandings, and misunderstandings. A flash into the future you imagine a person who loves doing the same things you do, a person you can sit comfortably in silence with, a person who you does not make you feel judged for even your most embarrassing, and weak moments, a person who makes you feel unafraid of revealing even the dirtier and darker sides of yourself, a person in whose company you feel at ease, a sense of relief, to not need to be your best self, to not worry about your insecurities, or be honest and open about them with. You could imagine him as your person, because you were all of this together… You wonder, with all this between you, whether he would change his mind, someday.

How would you feel if you could replay out every other possibility that your life could have taken, all the missed opportunities, the moments, the mishaps, the kiss that could have been instead of the tears that were shed. Would your ideal reality exist in those hundreds of probable outcomes? Would you have become lovers rather than friends, if you had not gotten so drunk that one time, or phrased your words a little differently, if you had not taken that trip, if you had let your guard down from the beginning, if you weren’t in love with other people in between, would that initial kiss have led you down a different path, one that would have ended in cuddled comfort on the couch watching the netflix series on the possibilities of your life’s choices, rather than with two separate aching hearts though together yet far apart.