I remember just two months ago, I was so intent on getting into the groove of my new job. Working hard, sinking my teeth into the world of public relations, and learning everything that was thrown at me with great gusto. Oh boy, was I an eager little beaver.
I made a very important discovery about two months back, and then an important but more crucially, utterly devastating, discovery about a month back.
With my first discovery, there went all my aspirations of slogging my guts out for the next few years before I leave to pursue my postgraduate degree, sacrificing time for my career, et cetra. Everything needed to be re-looked at. Heck, I don't even feel like I've grown out of young adulthood properly myself: I've just flown my coop, just starting out with more than a bucket-full of naïveté and wide-eyed wonder, just starting to feel more grown up.
And to top it all off, I was hardly feeling like myself for at least a good month. To my great dismay and misery, eating had become a torturous activity, a painful necessity I did not wish to bother myself with. I couldn't bear the thought of putting anything into my mouth, much less swallow anything.. And the mere suggestion of food was often enough to send me running to the bathroom. I was irritable at work, dead tired by mid-morning, and ready to call it a night by lunch time. My productivity at work had been close to zero. Frustration did not even come close to what I've been feeling.
Just as I was actually starting to feel more like myself as the weeks went on, I made my second discovery. Much as I thought I wasn't ready, that I needed more time, that this was happening at a very inopportune moment in my life and career - what has unfolded broke me in ways I didn't even know was possible to be broken.
I am no stranger to loss and hurt, but this was on a different scale altogether. Unadulterated grief seemed to spring eternal from my entire body, I felt like I was literally radiating pain from every part of me - right down to my fingertips. How do you grieve for the loss of a life that hasn't been lived yet, for one that is so much a part of you that it has become practically the centre of your existence, what you gravitate around, the first thing you are aware of when you wake and when you go to sleep? How do you start to miss one who was an integral part of you but is no longer, the promise of all he or she could be, all the years stretched out in your mind's eye, unfulfilled and stolen cruelly without them having been lived? How?
It took me a while to come to terms with this, I am still learning to come to terms with this each and every day. Most of the time, I feel fine, I feel like everything's normal, I feel happy again. But every so often, the pain of my loss just shoots right through my heart and incapacitates me for a moment; the agony feels as fresh as it was on the first day and I just have to stop whatever I'm doing, wherever I'm walking - and cry.
Tears do not seem enough and yet they are all I have, the only response I can summon, the only bouquet I have for my lost dear heart. A day does not go by that I do not still think about you, of all you would have been , of all you were and still are to me. I know that wherever life takes me, I will carry you in my heart as I could not carry you in my arms. Wait for me, won't you?
I made a very important discovery about two months back, and then an important but more crucially, utterly devastating, discovery about a month back.
With my first discovery, there went all my aspirations of slogging my guts out for the next few years before I leave to pursue my postgraduate degree, sacrificing time for my career, et cetra. Everything needed to be re-looked at. Heck, I don't even feel like I've grown out of young adulthood properly myself: I've just flown my coop, just starting out with more than a bucket-full of naïveté and wide-eyed wonder, just starting to feel more grown up.
And to top it all off, I was hardly feeling like myself for at least a good month. To my great dismay and misery, eating had become a torturous activity, a painful necessity I did not wish to bother myself with. I couldn't bear the thought of putting anything into my mouth, much less swallow anything.. And the mere suggestion of food was often enough to send me running to the bathroom. I was irritable at work, dead tired by mid-morning, and ready to call it a night by lunch time. My productivity at work had been close to zero. Frustration did not even come close to what I've been feeling.
Just as I was actually starting to feel more like myself as the weeks went on, I made my second discovery. Much as I thought I wasn't ready, that I needed more time, that this was happening at a very inopportune moment in my life and career - what has unfolded broke me in ways I didn't even know was possible to be broken.
I am no stranger to loss and hurt, but this was on a different scale altogether. Unadulterated grief seemed to spring eternal from my entire body, I felt like I was literally radiating pain from every part of me - right down to my fingertips. How do you grieve for the loss of a life that hasn't been lived yet, for one that is so much a part of you that it has become practically the centre of your existence, what you gravitate around, the first thing you are aware of when you wake and when you go to sleep? How do you start to miss one who was an integral part of you but is no longer, the promise of all he or she could be, all the years stretched out in your mind's eye, unfulfilled and stolen cruelly without them having been lived? How?
It took me a while to come to terms with this, I am still learning to come to terms with this each and every day. Most of the time, I feel fine, I feel like everything's normal, I feel happy again. But every so often, the pain of my loss just shoots right through my heart and incapacitates me for a moment; the agony feels as fresh as it was on the first day and I just have to stop whatever I'm doing, wherever I'm walking - and cry.
Tears do not seem enough and yet they are all I have, the only response I can summon, the only bouquet I have for my lost dear heart. A day does not go by that I do not still think about you, of all you would have been , of all you were and still are to me. I know that wherever life takes me, I will carry you in my heart as I could not carry you in my arms. Wait for me, won't you?
