|Why do I allow my brain to think of such things?|
I guess this was a learning experience...and a process of learning to love myself more... and perhaps of growing up to be wiser with matters of the heart.
I had a little scare today as my father caught a really bad case of food poisoning and was really weak - to the point that he kinda SOS-ed my mum and we had to rush back home to check in on him. Something shook in me today as I was reminded that my parents are getting older and I could lose them any time. It struck a sadness and fear in me. I think part of me would truly die if I lost my daddy.
And at some point of time in my fear-filled racing thought processes on the speedy drive home, I thought to myself "Would this guy even care?" and "Is he even here for you?" And my answer was "Probably not" and "No". It was a jagged little pill.
If there has been one thing that has been weighing down on my back this past year, it would be the weight of this one memory. After the break, I found myself chopping off my hair, going through my mole excision surgery, deciding on my jaw surgery and getting braces, losing almost 8 kilos, going on very dangerous and reckless car rides, wrestling with the most terrible of thoughts about how much my life was "really" worth, having endless nights of crying to the point of dehydration, running away from home, ploughing through depression, leaving the company for a while to join a school in Hawaii for a few months, and now waiting for the completion of my surgery. It has been a journey.
One whole year.
I read somewhere that it is healthy to be patient with yourself through a time of grief (which a breakup is very much like). And somewhere else, I read that it is alright to feel the emotions of heartbreak in totality (instead of trying to suppress everything). I've pretty much been wrestling with it for the whole past year, and now, being back in Singapore, these two weeks seemed to ploughed up some of the deepest of roots - which I suppose is not necessarily a bad thing...though it hasn't been fun.
Still, even though this process has been a lot longer than I - or anyone else, especially my family and closest friends who have had to bear with my depression and emotional swings - wished it would be, I believe that I've been very courageous though the different steps I've taken along the way. The milestones have included constantly trying to mentally let go, choosing to respect the silence, deleting photographs, deleting conversations, storing memories in a box, and now...maybe it's time to take another bold step of getting the memory box out of the house. Maybe I'll keep them with a friend...or somewhere where I just won't remember anymore. And one day, I'll find the courage to throw it out forever.
It's not fair for a girl's heart to be locked up and fearful because it had once been battered by a man who probably didn't know better. Right? There's just so much more to life. So much more to look forward to that I cannot allow these bad memories to steal time and energy away from me. There's so much ahead of me. So much I want to do. So much I have passion for.
I just have to find and execute the courage to arise and get out of this completely.
Gotta eventually get to this: