rediscovering me

As I am writing this, I am surrounded by breathtaking blooming Bougainvillea flowers and in the presence of majestic horses at my parents’ stable. On most Sundays, I am usually at home, probably getting some work done or out in a cafe for coffee and cakes with my loved one, but today I am just in the mood to break that routine.

I am currently going through something excruciating, it is almost like starting a new chapter again and rediscovering me. For the past years, I was trapped in a reality that wasn’t my own. Values that I would usually stand by, would be compromised, and all in the name of Love. That’s the funny thing about love isn’t it, sometimes you lose yourself while trying to be loved by someone else.

Imagine knowing one form of materiality for so long and having that familiarity changed overnight, what does one do when that happens? As I comprehend with the inevitable change, I feel like a part of me is lost and I begin to question, how do I find my way back to me?

When you’re left alone in your own thoughts, your mind can sometimes wander to the darkest corner. it’s confusing & exhausting and belief of unworthiness can be lurking behind the lost identity. You’ll be fed with the notion that time heals all wounds, but does it really? I for one may beg to differ because everything seems bleak from where I am standing, perhaps it could be because it has only been a month since the dwindling fall.

I’d like to think that while time may not necessarily heal all wounds, it gives me an opportunity to process how I feel. Hopefully with time, it will alter my perception of pain and with that comes the healing.

While I pick the pieces of my broken heart up and put it back together again, I mourn for the person I thought he was, and I grieve for the life promised. I grieve for the happily never after. Like any death, a death of a constitution requires a grieving process for healing.

As Irena Klepfisz once said, “What we grieve for is not the loss of a grand vision, but rather the loss of common things, events, and gestures. Ordinariness is the most precious thing we struggle for.” This resonated with me because when you lose your person, it isn’t just losing your better half, it is losing the person you’d share inside jokes with, your boba date on Friday nights, but mostly, it is losing your best friend.

I find myself constantly hopping on the nostalgia train, reminiscing memories made, and when it hits you, it hits you like waves and if you’re not careful enough, you might find yourself drowning, but this time he isn’t there pretending to save you.

At the time of writing, I still feel very much disorientated, but with darkness, I’d like to believe there will be light again. I am blessed to have an amazing support system of loving family and good friends around while I come to terms with the departure. I do not know what lies ahead, but what I know for sure is that it is better than the one I left behind.

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