You know how the game Tetris works? You put pieces that fit. You put them into place. The longer you find places for each piece to fit, you win the game. The thing about the game is that it ends, no matter how hard you try to find pieces that fit. Its impermanence and a thousand possibilities of facing the losing end in a fleeting moment is what make Tetris a game of odds and chances. And as humans, we have been taught repeatedly how so many of the good things in our lives tend to transform into something finite, lose its luster, and eventually fall apart. All these happen, they say, for us to eventually make room for better things to fall together.
We all go through life embodying a Human Tetris—the idea that someone will fall into place in our lives. And as we go through it, we realize we do not seek people to come to us. We do not necessarily force pieces that don’t fit. We simply let be. We go through it, I supposed, as waves constantly crash along the shore, or the way the sun rises every morning. Pieces—people—have a way of finding us without us having to force our way into their lives. If it’s a piece that fit, it will find a way to stay. If it’s a piece that is meant for another, we should gracefully find the courage to let go.
The idea that someone will find a place in our lives is the same idea of falling together. You see, falling together is not falling in love. But the way I see it, falling together is a way to fall with love. It does not identify with everything romantic, but it does identify with love. You can fall together as friends; you can fall together as lovers. You can find a click that works, and a “Hey, me too!” that sparks friendship. Falling together could be the universe allowing souls to form bonds that go beyond this lifetime. Falling together could simply be God saying, “Yes.” But whichever the course goes, falling together is the idea of two people—friends or lovers—finding a place in each other’s lives, following a pattern of Human Tetris, a routine that maybe only them could understand. It’s a language that only them know like the back of one’s hand, or inside jokes which will set only the two of them in series of hysterical laughter.
Falling together like puzzle pieces, like human tetrises, allowing to let someone know you from the inside out can take a long time. Falling together begins in an utterly defenseless and vulnerable way—the way you would struggle to find a place to let the piece fit with only seconds before another tetris falls right behind. Falling together—fitting puzzle pieces— takes a lot of work. It takes patience to create something beautiful. It takes courage to leap and fall together with love—always with love.
But there are countless times when pieces don’t fit. The idea, that is the Human Tetris, is also a game of odds and chances. While we may set our minds to a particular piece, we must always allow some room for not knowing—the inability to know what the future may bring, but the courage that allows us to take giant leaps of faith into the great unknown. There are times when the human tetris whom we have already considered our person—who knows us inside out—becomes the person who decides to leave. Leaving does not necessarily mean the connection was meaningless, that the click detached, that the feelings were something one simply outgrew. And while it may take a lifetime to get over someone who knew us inside out, leaving could mean that there is nothing else to grow from, that the pieces broke because the spaces between two souls were significantly getting wider—the way other tetrises fall behind faster every second until there’s no place for a piece to fit. Leaving could mean that falling apart is just as constant as falling together. It may seem like we have found our person—our human tetris—but we only realize how we may have already put our hearts on the line for someone who could only love us part time. We may have blinded ourselves for finding permanence in a temporary world.
But if there’s falling together then falling apart, there is also falling back. And when we have reached the edge of falling apart, we see light in the end. That’s when we know that while falling apart is a series of dark stages, of feeling hopeless and of wallowing in sadness, there are also countless of silver linings that await—a complex yet beautiful dynamics of a Human Tetris.
We begin anew; we give ourselves a fresh start. It’s a way to fall back into a routine with hope, writing a new chapter in our lives. And while we may falter along the way or meet seemingly almost perfect human tetrises, we’ll have the lessons of the old whom we have mistaken as our person to teach us that in choosing to fall back, we risk putting our hearts back on the line. We brave our way through a blank space and quietly say, “Jump, heart.”
Artwork: (Yet) Unknown Artist
Originally found in http://madkidss.tumblr.com/post/122889493617
Disclaimer: There is a band called “Human Tetris” but it has nothing to do with this article.