12 days 19 hours and 30 minutes.
That’s how long ago it was.
That’s how long ago it was.
We just stand by and wonder how fast those hours just swoosh by. It can get absolutely ridiculous. Even then, those wondering thoughts crossed us, but for completely different reasons. They were more bittersweet than the ones I think right now. Now they’re as simple as the word “sad”. And Hurt... That’s another appropriate word for it.
What hurts most is that it is beginning to not hurt as much as it did 12 days ago… or 10 days ago… or 9 days ago. Some people say that forgetting is actually a blessing and gift from God to mankind. I say it’s both a gift and a curse. A blessing because one always needs to forget the ugly things that have happened in their pasts (insert a loud “Duh” from the crowd); in parallel, it remains a curse because when that disease of forgetting falls upon us, we forget about the pain that we feel when we part from loved ones, or when we say our goodbyes. Yes, it is healthy to forget about the hurt and pain, but who said a person – and I in particular- would want to be healthy and forget about the pain that makes them happy. If that's what it's called then so be it; I'd definitely rather be "unhealthy".
Yes, pain can make me genuinely happy. That is in the specific case when it is connected to people I love that I might never meet again, or to the times that in their turn caused genuine happiness.
It is difficult for me to not wallow about certain things and experiences in my life.
My mother tells me I should stop creating my illustrious and illusionary worlds that revolve around much simpler and imperfect concepts and people. But to me those will always remain perfectly imperfect.
In the words of Charlie the Wallflower, “I feel infinite”.
When I listen to those certain tunes that make every single taste, smell, graze, ray of sunshine, drop of rain, laugh, tear, heart skip and van ride flood back into my system. And when I breathe in just one very specific breeze, and when I am reading this exact page of that particular book and I remember everything that once was and never will be again; and that is when I begin to feel that beautiful pain and that hurt again; that is when I feel infinite.
I do sincerely believe that I have the right; the absolute right -without the fear of being committed- to feel this way about the reasons behind why things have changed so drastically for me. Because they have changed as drastically. And the new thing is that the implications of those changes and their consequences, are not within my grasp of control and… honestly? I do not wish them to be.
I have made yet another conscious decision (another of my self-found central concepts). It is the same as the one I had made just 2 years before: I’ll let the events of my life flow with no control.
Yep, that’s true; I’ll let them flow from the midst of the pain, the missing, the love and the bittersweet genuine happiness, without once trying to apply my chains of control that I sometimes barely live without.
If it’s a broken part, replace it. If it’s a broken arm then brace it. If it’s a broken heart…then face it.
I sat on the roof of our little Mediterranean chalet reading the book that revolves around the wallflower. It was around my favorite time of day; after the sun leaves mid-sky and right before it sets; exactly when it’s in 3 quarters of the blue that turns into the perfect tinge of orange. It needed a picture. But I knew that bothering to go fetch the camera was not worth ruining the actual moment. So… I let it be.
Luckily enough however, my cat had to escape me as fickle as she is. And I did get the chance to grab that camera and snap the just as fickle beauty. Maybe Fate likes things to go my way too…
Suggested Music: Details in the Fabric- Jason Mraz
That Green Gentleman (Things Have Changed)- Panic at the Disco
Suggested Reading: The Perks of Being a Wallflower- Stephen Chbosky
Suggested Movie: Garden State