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flashback

It's 11:40 pm and I was in bed, warm and soft, when suddenly a vivid image crossed my mind. It was a late summer night on the 20 bus and I was sitting in the back on one of the seats facing sideways. Why was it the 20? Where was I going up and down Victoria Drive? It must have been when we still lived on Perry Street and Sergio still lived on 35th, which would be the only reasons I would be on the 20.
Across from me were a couple in their 20s probably. Something about their embrace exuded such warmth and intimacy that I just sat there in awe, envious of their love. I had wished that I would also find a love like such, or like what I imagined their love to be at that time. That short encounter gave me no facts, only my own imagination of what love looks like and feels like.

Two relationships after, I think I've made peace with love for now. I don't hate love. Love doesn't suck. It doesn't ruin my life. It is a strong feeling that takes me out of control, but also gives me hope and renews a sense of yearning for safety.

What I do know is I won't be lonely in this world. There's so much for me to do to stay involved, challenged, motivated and inspired. Friday nights like these where I'm totally by myself will be more frequent because I'm no longer chasing love, or the desire for romantic love as I used to.

Still, that memory of the couple - a random, trivial memory - burns in the back of my eyelids tonight. I realize still want love, but only the kind of love that I've defined as worthwhile. After all, a relationship should be unique to the people involved, and not the stock romance that men like Don Draper create to sell nylons.

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