Do you believe....
....that absence makes the hearts grow fonder? I do. Upto a limit though. Too much absence however...
There is only one song thats been playing in my head for the last three days. I don't know who sings it. I hear it on the radio all the time though.
"Don't want this moment to ever end. Everything's nothing without you."
I don't know if this has something to do with P.'s absence.
Anyway, its raining again. Rain always reminds me of home. Same way freshly cut grass does. Or fresh brewed tea. Or sun-dried clothes. Or coconut oil. Or...
This list could go on forever.
I don't know what the moral of this story is.
List of guess what?
So I am all by my lonesome this weekend. So last night, I watched re-runs of Grey's Anatomy until 2 am. Coz I didn't have anything better to do. And came up with the following list. Now I can't tell you what its a list of. You can take a wild guess though....
Here goes:
1. Eyes. Brown. Or Green.
2. Hands.
3. Back of the neck.
4. Shoulders.
5. Dark hair. Close cropped.
6. Not so close shave.
7. A nice watch on the left wrist. Worn with a full sleeved, cuff linked dress shirt. And left on.
8. Crisp white full-sleeved, collared shirt. Slim fit. And T-shirt underneath.
9. Flat front pants. Grey. Pin-striped.
10. D & G for men.
11. White sheets. And white towels.
12. Blackberries.
I completed the list.
Sighed.
And fell asleep.
How do you keep your edge?
How do you stay focused? How do you not get involved?
I used to be like that. But now things are fuzzy. Unclear. Not that it bothers me so much. Just that sometimes, its very disorienting.
Anyway, on a separate note, four weeks. Actually, a little less than four weeks. And consequently, apprehension. Actually, a little less than total, all-consuming, mortifying fright.
Everytime you go away....
...you take a piece of me with you.
I miss you.
S.
So my good friend L. brought her kids over to the park behind my house today. After about ten minutes in, she looked at me and simply said, "You appear to be surprisingly and suspiciously good with kids."
Hmmm. I know that my general impression on people is not very good. And I know that not much surprises me. But the fact that my good friend had the impression that she has of me does surprise me a little bit.
Meant to be...
So my Dad sent me a text message a few minutes ago that read like this:
"The words 'meant to be' are always used in hindsight. Ever wonder why?"
As I sit here alone, in this unfamiliar corner, I wonder.
Maybe itz coz hindsight is always 20/20.
I continue to wonder.
How well do we know the people around us?
So one of my friends at work said the following to me verbatim today: "S., you are such a snob." I laughed it off. But that hurt me a little. Not enough for me to say something to him/her. But enough to make me think about what I may have said/done to make him/her think that way.
Another good friend at work moved offices yesterday and sent me an email today saying that I should get past the shyness and drop by his/her desk sometime. It just made me wonder how he/she may think other things about me that may not be me at all.
Now, as I sit alone in this corner of my new/old room, I think about my former favourite corner. And how this corner does not and never will compare to that one.
And I think about how little we may know about someone despite spending eight hours a day with them. And how we may judge someone without actually bothering to see the reason behind someone's actions.
Hmmm.
Time for dinner.
Decisions come from circumstances.
Or do circumstances come from decisions?
So someone I know from work had a stroke last night. He is in the hospital. His right side is paralyzed. I feel for his wife. Wonderful, kind and very hard working. I feel for his three young kids. 12, 6 and 3. But most of all, I feel for him. He is only 41. And is probably undergoing a very intrusive, and dangerous, brain surgery as I speak.
Here they are, a family, and a life, in peril.
But still together. And still holding it together.
Its times like these, stories like these, that put
this post into perspective.
Whoever you are, if you are reading, say a little prayer for this family before going to bed tonight.
Because God only knows, they need all the prayers they can get.
As I sipped my coffee (yes, sometimes I drink coffee) this afternoon at work and I listened to the song that always reminds me of you, I thought.
Of you. And of our special place.
That no one knew about.
And no one ever will.
I sighed.
And gulped the last of my coffee.
So when I asked my colleague P.K., who is on a diet of raw vegetables and boiled potatoes, how he manages to eat, and somewhat relish, food that he doesn't like, he looked at me, smiled and simply said, "What cannot be cured, must be endured."
Hmmm. Kinda like a broken heart.
Six weeks.
And thats it.
I don't know how to feel.
Happy means guilty.
Sad? Is it really so sad?
I don't know how to feel.
Nothing left to say....
....but goodbye.
Home Sweet Home.
As I look around at the last of the boxes and the empty rooms around me and I sit in my favourite corner for the very last time, empty now, but welcoming and familiar all the same, I think.
They say that at any given moment in your life, there are two people who you would lay down your life for. In a heartbeat. There are fifteen people who you genuinely truly care about or love. And there is one person who thinks about you at night before falling asleep.
As I sit here alone sipping my water, in this corner, and look around the home that used to be, I think.
There are three people I would gladly die for.
And there are nine people that I truly care about.
This home was my tenth.
It still is.
But soon enough, it will just be a memory. Something I will look at in pictures once in a while. I know its time to move on and that for every end, there is a new beginning. But I still can't help thinking. This was my home. A comfortable place. A familiar place. But most of all, a happy place.
And my heart bleeds to see it go.
As I drove down my favourite road behind the airport on my way home from work today and listened to my favourite song, I thought.
Judgments don't matter.
Never have.
Never will.
But once in a while, I stop and think about them.
So someone I've gotten to somewhat know over the last couple of years said something to me today that hurt me slightly. Not enough for me to mention it to him though. But hurtful still.
On a completely separate note, a good friend said something to me today that made me think. About sacrifices.
Is a sacrifice really worth it?
As I sit in my favourite corner, probably for the very last time, and listen to the rain outside, I wonder.
Don't we all make sacrifices. To make others, others we may love or care about, happy. Doesn't there happiness make us happy?
So if a sacrifice makes the one person you would gladly lay down your life for happy, and that makes you happy, is it still really a sacrifice?
Something to think about.
I've had butterflies in my tummy all day. Since about 6 am this morning. And I don't know why.
Its now 9.57 pm. I've been packing for three hours. My back is killing me. My head is throbbing. And my heart is aching.
But I can still feel the butterflies.
As I sit here alone once again and sip ym tea while I look at my backyard and the wet blades of grass in it, I think.
About moving on.
Someone once asked me about what I thought I have accomplished in life thus far. I never answered their question. But when I thought about it later, I thought of this very same backyard. The first thing that I paid for with my own money. And it made me proud. I know had tons of help to get me started and tons of help along the way. But it made me proud all the same.
And now as I sit in this corner and think about this very backyard again, I wonder how it will feel, less than a week from today, when I bid farewell to it.
Somehow I am not looking forward to moving on.
I hate goodbyes. They hurt an awful lot. And almost always leave somewhat of a vaccuum behind in your heart. A good friend once told me that for every good bye, there is another hello that awaits. Thats what makes goodbyes easier, I guess.
Not easy. But easier.
Who is it at fault?
No one but me.
