There was a time when I was younger, more naive and less precautious person. Back when life seemed so much more predictable, controllable and somewhat easy to plan and figure out. The confidence and courage that I felt back then was so strong I practically felt invisible. It was then that I got involved with a group of people from different parts of the world to perform an extraordinary task. But ack, I was not ready. Although, none of us may have never been ready. Yet, we did what we could and what we did, we loved. We sought, we fought, we conquered, we succeeded and yes, we failed too.
I failed. It wasn’t the first time that I came up short to something but it was definitely one of the most painful. The activities, the goals that I’ve set, were one of the most ambitious BHAGs I’ve ever had. Thus when the axe fell down, and my short comings were found, the pain was harsher than any pain I’ve ever felt. Thereafter, I’ve found myself in a state of sadness, then denial, shock, shame, anger, pity, confusion and at last contemplation.
Life moved on but it was never the same. Time passed by quickly and I found myself doing normal things like going to school, then work and most of the times, I’d even hang out with some friends. Still, there was something missing. I felt this gaping black hole, that was draining my energy, what little I had of motivation. The fight was on, or so I thought. I had nothing. Or did I?
So I drifted for some time. Let things go. Life continued on. Days passed. Weeks. Then months. One day I stopped thinking, started writing more of the thoughts down on pieces of paper. Some days, I could just sit there, think, wait and slowly come to an understanding of the recent events. Perhaps there were too many thing happening at such a short period of time, and perhaps I was too slow to figure it out? Too slow to adapt. I reminisced about the good times and squandered about the bad times. At the end of the day I’ll find myself coming into terms with how the things occurred.
Then suddenly the daily life became exciting again. The colors became more vibrant and the birds chirping sounded less annoying. I found myself doing something like what I did before but something more suitable to my style. I realized back then, when I was younger, more naive and less precautious person, the emotions I felt were a kind of love but more of a crush than an everlasting one. So I reached this point of reflection and found my self wondering – was it real then, the things that I did, the emotions that I felt, the relationships that I built? Then I questioned myself – does it really matter? It happened, I lived through it and loved every bit of it while it was going on. At some point, I was sold out short, but I got the experience of a lifetime and more insight about the world.
The ramblings could go on and on and on. It could be never ending. Is this how it’s like to fall out of love? I loved what I did and got to do it for some time. Then I was advised to retire and found myself heartbroken. It was heart-wrenching because I was still in love. Luckily time healed the wound and I got over it after some time. Still the time that I spent when I was walking in a daze, with rosy glasses on and a heart like a lion would be on my heart for the rest of life. Those memories and lessons are something I hold high regard. I wouldn’t give it for anything in the world. That love was sweet. Then it became bittersweet and not soon after a dot to be connected with other loves. *sigh*
