Saturday 21 December 2013

I wish her happiness

I guess the time has come that I must say good bye to her.  So many days have gone by and for most of those days, I fell asleep at the thought of her. She came into my life by accident, or perhaps, serendipity is a better description. Whenever I thought about how she came into my life, it was as if a missing puzzle had been found. It finally all made sense, that I was meant to be there, at that point in time, at that particular path, so that we could bump into each other. Except that, we did not just bump, we hugged. Not the kind of hug whereby you move towards the air space near the object of your so-called affection, but the one in which your bodies melt towards each other and in that moment, you experience beauty. The moment that makes life worth living, and each pain worth suffering. She was like a drug, she brought a new kind of high and then, with it, a new kind of low.

Not a day gone by in which a thought about her did not linger, or at least, pass by. I have pretty much exhausted all of the release avenues by now because it has come to the point whereby I have no words left to say. She has slipped away from my life. I tried to be happy for her that she had found what it was she had been searching for so long. But the truth is that I still miss her very deeply. I have always thought that she was not in my life just for a season; I have grown accustomed to looking at her face and watching her silently expressing what I thought was her affections. She had seen me through my worst and brought me back to reality. How could something so beautifully bonded together be separated without as much as a struggle. Sometimes I think life is so unfair this way. For the past decade, did those moments really happen and did we really bond like I felt we did.

My memory is fading not because of the time that has gone past, but because I have stopped trying to remember her. Those memories that we had crafted so effortlessly now seem so surreal; did we or did we not love each other like we felt we did. I can’t remember whether she held my hand when we walked together, but I remember her flinching every time I put my arm around her.  The little things that I brushed aside at the time suddenly assume so much for significance – but for what. The fruitless exercise of remembering she, who is now long gone, so quietly, so painfully.

Maybe in another life time, we would bump into each other again, and maybe, just maybe, we will hug tighter, even if it’s just for a second.

Saturday 14 December 2013

Random wisdom of getting older

So, I turned a year older.

I am one of those annoying people who continuously mention their birthdays before the day itself. It's fun, at least to me, and somewhat rather annoying to those who have to listen to it more than once. I am pretty sure I annoy the heck of my friends and I am grateful that somehow we are still friends.

They (as in the generic form of "they") say that it is all just a number once you passed a certain point in life. This certain point in life, to a lot of people, is 30. To others, it is when you have kids, and for the rest, it is like, err... 21. I am excited every time it is my birthday, for the mere reason that it is my birthday. And if I happen to like you, then I would  be excited it is your birthday, and make a fuss so that you feel special (even just a lil bit).

I am obviously one of the minority here, because I still feel that turning a year older is special even when I am supposedly past "this certain point". Because it confirms yet another one of my currently-tested-but-yet-to-be-conclusively-confirmed theories that life does get better every day. My life today is remarkably better than my life a year ago. Or at least, that's how I feel about it, and I think that's all that matters, to me, anyway.

Getting older is awesome because you discover a lot of things about life that you know is somewhat true because you've experienced it yourself. I really don't want to use this example, but I am going to because a lot of people can relate to this: dieting by elimination of major food groups does not work in the long run. If you want to look good, you really gotta be healthy and to be healthy you gotta exercise and eat properly. Eating properly means you eat a balanced diet - and what this diet is to you is something you gotta work out. After years of trial and error, largely because I was a fat kid who was perpetually on a diet, I think I have this figured out for now. As I become older and my body starts giving up and bla bla bla, this would need to change - and that's ok because I will make it work, somehow.

Change "dieting" to any other activity and you get the idea - the idea of figuring out what works and what doesn't work. If you know that something is "so not you", then don't do it. If you don't stay true to yourself, then who will? You owe it to yourself to do things right by you. If you don't like something, change it to something that you like. You may not like it forever, but at least you are ok with it for now.

You realise that change is a constant constant in life, and you figure that you may as well get used to it. This does not mean that dealing with change get easier, but it does mean that you can endure the hardships knowing that you are going to turn out to be better on the other side.

And once in a while, you stop, eat one too many friands and watch your friends twerk.

Yes, life is good, indeed.