Fading..... at last

FADING.... at last

Reading through the pages of my diary solely for him, i realize that his name ::********;; is fading. I trace my finger over his letter declaring his love, remembering the day he whispered about it, with tears blurring my thoughts and vision.

That’s what he is doing, i think, slowly fading out of my life. And yet, i remember everything and every moment i was with him, savoring everything about him. I never thought a person could be so precious to me. He was so beautiful, it hurt to look at him. But now, it hurts to think of him. I memorized his face: dark eyebrows, black eyes, tousled hair. His hands, tan and strong could swallow my own. I have never loved anyone else the way i loved him.

The first time i saw him, i stood there quietly, drinking him in. And when i finally had him, i was almost in tears because i had never felt so alive. I don’t know how long i stood there holding him, breathing in his scent with my face pressed against his shirt. I knew i didn’t want to let go.

I cried bitterly the day we parted, feeling utterly alone as i watched the taxi go and took him to the airport. I tasted the salt as i wept, feeling so angry at the world and at life. I had found my love, the one i wanted to be with forever, and life had chosen to be cruel and unfair, keeping us over three thousand miles away from each other.  I thought my heart could break.

I sigh as i remember these painful memories, but i don’t cry. I have no tears left for him.

They say that real love is forever. I don’t know the exact definition of it, but he is as close as I’ve ever come to it. He’s gone now, and my dreams have been shattered by the harsh reality of the situation. I thought we were meant to be together, i dearly loved him. Two people living so far away from each other usually can’t make it. I thought we would be different, that we were strong enough to make it. I was wrong. When he left, he took a piece of my heart with him. It’s now floating somewhere in the East.

For a while, i couldn’t eat or sleep. I felt so sick and empty. I didn’t think i would be able to go on without him. As i look back now, i see that it was a time of mourning-i was mourning the loss of a relationship so true. I didn’t think the hurt would end.

Then, i woke up one day, and the sick feeling in my stomach was gone. I know then that i was going to be okay, that i no longer needed him. I began to live again. As i look back, the only thing he ever gave me that i will be able to carry with me forever is the discovery of my inner strength. It will carry me through the pain, all the hurt, and I will survive.

———————–

I’ve just woken up today. Thank you for the lesson that took years for me to learn.

Moreover, life is a gift. That’s why we should value every moment spending with our love ones in our life. We should thank God also for the life he gives to us even if it is only temporary. Live, love and be happy because life is beautiful.

HOME

HOME. Such a common word, and it doesn’t matter when you are just around the corner. It doesn’t mean anything more than a place to sleep, to eat, to share things with your family, to laugh, to argue with your siblings and with your mother and father, to listen to loud music, watch TV anytime, to brag your achievements and so many other petty things you don’t seem to mind. You hate it when your mother calls you during lunch time. You are annoyed when your mother asks you to go home since it’s six o’clock in the evening and you need to attend the family prayer or help prepare dinner. You feel disgusted when your mother asks you to do house chores even if it’s just feeding the dogs. You become rebellious when your parents don’t give you a certain thing you want most for they consider it unimportant. It so good to get away from home, run, and go to places away from those people who treat you like a kid, who don’t seem to give you freedom, who always mind your business, and keep records of what you do and your mistakes. You don’t want to hear the nags of your mother, the unending questions like: “What time is it now? Where have you been? What have you done? Why didn’t you go home on time? Don’t you know your responsibilities at home? Who are your friends now? Do you have new sets of friends? blaahh…blaahhh…blaahhhh…” You usually go to your room, cover your ears and pretend not to hear anything. Sometimes you even have the courage to reason out which then makes things worse. And the drive to vanish to a secluded island comes back. You want to pack and run.

Now, I am old enough and staying at home is no longer an option. I got what I wanted—have my own life. Nobody minds, nobody cares.

HOME. Such a common word. However….

Home is where the heart is, indeed. Home is our solace, our greatest surrender. It is a place where we could heal our wounds and pick up the debris of our broken dreams. The words of our mothers are like music and her advice is our bible.

Oh how I miss everything I hate before. I just want to be home.

HOME. It’s not a common word after all. It’s the sweetest word I would like to utter and feel. HOME. It’s just a dream now. TT