A single tear falls from my face to the floor and splashes in the cold marble I am sitting on.
Ironically, the essence of my entire life in that moment is captured by that tear: the final, reluctant acceptance of something being ripped out, just as the tear forces itself out of the eye; the gradual slipping down into a void, a vacuum, just as the tear slides down the face; the fall after the vacuum when the realization of emptiness hits, just like the tear falls to the floor; and the final shattering of life as it was previously known, just as the tear splashes into million of tiny shimmering droplets of numbing struggle, loneliness, and pain.
I read the message again, and it still mercilessly says “I’m sorry, but what you’re looking for is not really my cup of tea. I hope we can still be friends though…” and a part of me asks, what really was the point of that smiley? I’m not smiling, and I can be reasonably sure she isn’t either. But before the analytical me can prod further, another wave of emotion rushes over it, and another tear flowing down to the floor put me through the agony of loss again.
I wait. Or rather, I pause.
There is a new light when you look around you just after a fall- both physically and emotionally. You feel dazed, lost, and blink a lot. You hurt, but less from the actual fall as opposed to your misjudgment of direction. You lose balance, and sometimes a lot more. And that’s the time you need, more than anything else, a hand to pick you up and help you dust yourself.
And after that poignant pause, I realize something. There would not be any hand to pick me up. Not this time. I’d have to get up, clean up, and find my way again all by myself. It made the fall a lot more painful.
With phenomenal energy and cold courage, I will my fingers to type back “Yeah sure, friends is still awesome…”, and follow the cliché of the smiley. And that starts the process of picking myself up again.
I go over the most important part of this heart wrench: my realization. And it says to me: Never put yourself in a position where you can be hurt by the one person who can heal your soul.
A hypothetical chuckle escapes me. Experience always comes too damn late.
"Never put yourself in a position where you can be hurt by the one person who can heal your soul."
ReplyDeleteThat speaks of cynicism more than experience but then again, it is probably the most practical thing to do and doing what is practical is also an 'experience' which as you so rightly put it always come too damn late. But the optimist in me would still like to think that there is always a next time.
Great writing. Powerful emotions.
"Experience always comes too damn late"
ReplyDeleteI can really relate to that line. Very well written, everything always comes to life for me when I read your writing.