It has almost been 2 months since the devastating news. All through this time my mum has been a great source of comfort. Her wisdom and comforting encouragement helped me to regain my feet every time I crumble down into a heap of misery.
Where am I now? Am I better? I do not know. Thinking of it still brings a bit of pain every time. It gets less and less. Sometimes a new aspect of the new reality sinks in and again it takes a lot of strength to stop the tears. I have never shed so much tears nor felt pain so physical it petrified me. But as time goes on, the magnitude of pain becomes less, and the frequency with which it stings gets rarer too.
I had a wonderful time talking to my old crush from high school. We became really close friends. Looking back, I wondered how did I get over that episode. It felt really terrible. Distance and time did the work I guess.
Yet, things are different this time. I got more emotionally invested, and the time we knew each other was longer. Sitting in bed last night, I reminisced the time when we barely knew each other. The journey until where we are today was bittersweet, with me longing all the time to have that final reward – her heart. Fraught with disappointments for years, why did I not snap out of it? I do not know. It was foolish to hold on to hope where there was none.
I know this time it is different. I saw where this journey was going and knew it has to end. Perhaps that is why I am dreading it. To end it, to say goodbye to all that means committing all that ever happened to a distant memory, buried deep and waiting for real healing to start. I still cringe with regret, regretting things that I could have done differently, that would perhaps have had a different result.
It means whatever time we have left, I will treasure with the full knowledge that it means nothing and will mean more pain if I hold on to it. It means accepting that the story has been written, and I must put down the pen. It will be a huge effort and takes monumental strength that only God can give to not care emotionally. It will take a long time, and it feels like healing has just only started.
I do wonder, where will we be in 3 years’ time. Will I still cringe with regret and sadness then? Or will I have moved on? Will we be close friends, ever supportive of each other, but separated by distance and slowly drifting apart? Will I wish for her happiness when I get a wedding invitation someday (the thought of which still stings me today)? Only God knows.
Writing down everything is perhaps my only way of accepting things and moving on. For only through writing can I really express my hopes and disappointments in ways I could not with other people – though not for lack of want. All I could do now, is fix my eyes on Jesus, and seek solace that none can give except Him.