What I was chasing wasn't love, but anxiety

I ordered just one drink at Snack Yuki again today.
Today, I chose Glenfiddich 15 Year Old.

It feels soft the moment it touches my lips.
But then, a slight richness lingers afterward.

It doesn't end with just sweetness.
Even though it's not a light drink, it goes down smoothly.

When I drink something like this,
I think that human feelings might be a little similar.

When you have someone you like,
the way your day ends can sometimes depend entirely on them.

If a reply comes, I feel a little relieved.
If it doesn't, I feel restless for no reason.

If they say we can meet, my mood suddenly improves.
Just being told they are busy changes the color of the night.

I think that was love.
But I also feel it wasn't just love.

Thinking about it now,
there were nights when, rather than looking at the person I liked,
I was only looking at myself, swaying with their reactions.

I don't want to be disliked.
I don't want to be thought of as clingy.
But if possible, I don't want to be forgotten either.

As those feelings grow little by little,
people start to conform to the other person.

I clear my schedule.
I worry about the speed of their replies.
I choose words that won't upset them rather than what I want to say.

Before I know it,
I have become a thinner version of myself
than I was when I first fell in love.

Even so, at the time,
I thought it was 'because I love them'.

I thought it was only natural to do this much because I love them.
I thought I was just cherishing the other person.

But in truth,
perhaps I wasn't chasing the other person,
but rather chasing the anxiety of losing them.

There are nights when I think that.

Why is it that just a slow reply
disturbs my feelings so much?

Why is it that just not being able to meet
makes me feel like my own value has dropped?

The true nature of that pain
might not have been the depth of love,
but the weight of what I had entrusted too much to the other person.

I, too, once had nights that stretched on forever
because of a single reply.

I thought I was just in love.
But now, I think
that was a little different.

Having someone you love and
letting that person hold the reins to your own mood
are probably two different things.

To let go sounds like
giving up.
But perhaps that is not the case.

I think what you let go of isn't the other person,
but your own heart that you entrusted too much to them.

Being able to end the night even if no reply comes.
Being able to live your own life even if you can't see them.
Being able to return to your own rhythm, not theirs.

Perhaps that is what it means to grow up a little.

I took another sip of Glenfiddich 15 Year Old.

It is soft at first.
But it leaves a core behind.

The feeling of love
must be the same.

If it were only sweetness, it would be easier.
But because anxiety is mixed deep within it,
people suffer so much.

Tonight, I still
cannot separate them so cleanly.

Even so,
I think it is okay to have nights where you slowly
take back what you entrusted too much to the person you love.

The glass is empty.
That is enough for today.

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