Bye Bye [II, coming to terms.]
I've grown to be frank with myself. Perhaps I've more or less come to terms with all these that has been happening. While tears, brimming with emotions, may flow - they still, no matter what, fade and evaporate in time. And pain, with the fleeting seconds, do fade too. Albeit leaving scars behind. I cannot deny that the pain lingers on sometimes. The silence at night, the recurring memories, these tears may still escape the corners of my eye but still, I will not let it bring me down again.
I've chosen to deny against my loneliness. In all things, there exists multiple perspectives and I have learned to no longer keep my sight narrowed into only the perspective as I view it to be. Perhaps an end is actually a beginning. That day whilst attending Daniel's grandmother's funeral, I have come to understand that death is not a loss. I looked at the funeral and looked at the people. Some, like me, did not even know Daniel's grandmother, yet we came. Why? I've come to wonder. Why do people gather when others die? Why people feel they should?
It is because the human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn't just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed.
I was blinded and felt like the most wretched person. Everytime I said I have lost the purpose of my life, someone else has lost their everything, people have lost not just people, but many more things precious in their lives at that very moment too. It happens everyday. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your loved one falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole.
It is perhaps why we are drawn to babies... and to funerals. Perhaps I might not have yet to understand what have I gained from this loss, but I've certainly learnt to hold strong to my faith and keep believing. Perhaps this is what love is all about, about continuing to love regardless of how cold or hostile the atmosphere might be. I have gained strength in loss and maybe the steadfastness in love - it's unconditionality and the sacrificiality of it.
God told me this : "No life is a waste, the only time you waste is the time you spend thinking you're alone."
We all make sacrifices, it is part of life. It is supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It is something to aspire to. Little sacrifices. Big sacrifices. A mother works so her son can go to school. A daughter moves home to take care of her sick father. The sacrifice I am giving, the sacrifice that brings me much griefs at times, great happiness at others. Many people do not see the reason to sacrifice, but they inevitably still do so. Why? Because humans, they know deep inside that whilst suffering, the reward - though intangible - shines ever much more significantly, because it is in these sacrifices they find meaning. And the meaning might not make sense, it might not be fair. But still, that is love. Love is not fair, it is unconditional. Sacrifice thus equates to love. Fairness does not govern loss and gain, if it did, no good person would ever die young.
Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else. Perhaps his departure from my life is a newfound freedom for him, new friendships and a life that he might like better. Perhaps I was selfish, all I saw was how much he hurt me and not understand anything I might have done that may have not made him feel comfortable. I do not know. But certainly I know I need to move on.
Lost love is still love. It just takes a different form. I might not see that smile and bring you food or play with you or even mess around together. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes my partner. I nurture it. I hold it. I place it deep in my heart. Perhaps our friendship has an end, love doesn't.
God told me that I am not worthless, and what God says, I've learned to listen.
I've chosen to deny against my loneliness. In all things, there exists multiple perspectives and I have learned to no longer keep my sight narrowed into only the perspective as I view it to be. Perhaps an end is actually a beginning. That day whilst attending Daniel's grandmother's funeral, I have come to understand that death is not a loss. I looked at the funeral and looked at the people. Some, like me, did not even know Daniel's grandmother, yet we came. Why? I've come to wonder. Why do people gather when others die? Why people feel they should?
It is because the human spirit knows, deep down, that all lives intersect. That death doesn't just take someone, it misses someone else, and in the small distance between being taken and being missed, lives are changed.
I was blinded and felt like the most wretched person. Everytime I said I have lost the purpose of my life, someone else has lost their everything, people have lost not just people, but many more things precious in their lives at that very moment too. It happens everyday. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your loved one falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole.
It is perhaps why we are drawn to babies... and to funerals. Perhaps I might not have yet to understand what have I gained from this loss, but I've certainly learnt to hold strong to my faith and keep believing. Perhaps this is what love is all about, about continuing to love regardless of how cold or hostile the atmosphere might be. I have gained strength in loss and maybe the steadfastness in love - it's unconditionality and the sacrificiality of it.
God told me this : "No life is a waste, the only time you waste is the time you spend thinking you're alone."
We all make sacrifices, it is part of life. It is supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It is something to aspire to. Little sacrifices. Big sacrifices. A mother works so her son can go to school. A daughter moves home to take care of her sick father. The sacrifice I am giving, the sacrifice that brings me much griefs at times, great happiness at others. Many people do not see the reason to sacrifice, but they inevitably still do so. Why? Because humans, they know deep inside that whilst suffering, the reward - though intangible - shines ever much more significantly, because it is in these sacrifices they find meaning. And the meaning might not make sense, it might not be fair. But still, that is love. Love is not fair, it is unconditional. Sacrifice thus equates to love. Fairness does not govern loss and gain, if it did, no good person would ever die young.
Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else. Perhaps his departure from my life is a newfound freedom for him, new friendships and a life that he might like better. Perhaps I was selfish, all I saw was how much he hurt me and not understand anything I might have done that may have not made him feel comfortable. I do not know. But certainly I know I need to move on.
Lost love is still love. It just takes a different form. I might not see that smile and bring you food or play with you or even mess around together. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes my partner. I nurture it. I hold it. I place it deep in my heart. Perhaps our friendship has an end, love doesn't.
God told me that I am not worthless, and what God says, I've learned to listen.
posted by Jean-Baptiste at
4:33 AM
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