Friday, 8 April 2016

What really matters at the end of the day

I disappeared from many for a good quarter of the year, and even for those occasions that I was around for, I was barely there. 

There's no other reasons, I was just downright lost and devastated. I could no longer hold small talks with people, or function in a social context, or entertain superficial relationships. I could hardly face a new day every morning. I had no words for myself, or I could do was to put 'Till it happens to you' on an excruciating torturous repeat and feeling every word and motion carving onto my heart. 

It was so unimaginably hard. 
I was this close to plunging into the deep.

Then slowly, things started to turn around.

Definitely not a single bit easy, but loved ones - deeply loved and precious ones - pulled me through. With their understanding, patience, and endless sea of love. Life feels slightly easier than the day before, and I feel slightly stronger to be able to take the day after. I have no intention to tell people what had transpired, all I could say is that it's as if I was made to grow up overnight - a torrent of issues came flooding into my life one after another, and they overwhelmed me entirely. Entirely.

The chapter was not over for me, in fact it started a whole new book for me. It is the crucible of my life, and will always be. I suffered greatly, but I too have learnt greatly. 

And on the nights where my lover and I cooked under the setting sun and the rising stars, the heat from the fire warming up our bodies while we drank wine from plastic bottles, I felt easy.

Easy to be happy. 
And to be very happy. Soon.