When I flip those grunge pages of my old dairy, the bitter-sweet memories blurs my vision leading me down to the turns of life, some I wish I could re-live again and some I wish I had never been apart of; but I do not regret the latter. For it made me stronger, strong enough to stand against the million visages, strong enough to listen to the heart, strong enough to follow my dreams, strong enough to heal the scar.
When I quickly flip past those pages, I realize they aren’t just manuscripts, they are a part of my life, a part which made me weak, and the same part that made me believe in myself. I may sound as Meredith Grey right now, but today I realized, her words, howsoever philosophical and melodramatic they might be, giving a little thought will reveal she just said something that you were hiding from yourself for so long. Today I realized what she meant when she said, “it is sometimes all right to let it go. It is all right to choose the wrong train, climbing on it with expectations and finally realizing that the train led you to nowhere and you have to let it go.” I boarded the wrong train too, and I had let him go, for he was never meant to be mine, for he was always a silhouette somewhere far away in the dark, for he never belonged with my soul.
Or what if I just say, my soul never belonged to him. He will stay immortal, forever juvenile. The only place where I can claim him to be mine is in my dreams, my delicate world of fantasy. Everything perfect. No one cries. No one gets hurt.
Reality is far, far from the virtual world everyone stays in. It’s harsh. It hurts, more than you could ever imagine. Reality is when you silently weep, your face buried inside the pillow, reality is when you burst from within, reality is when you see your love walking past with someone. You wish it were you. But reality, it will pull you down, rip your heart apart. And that’s when you let just let it go. That’s when you know the fate just played on you, fooled you, and injured you. You are handcuffed. You stay numb. You want to shout out loud to the world that he is the one. None listens, save your inner goddess. You are left alone, with memories; memories when life was so much easier, so much bright. The first odor of love enchanted your senses. You were bowled. The good old times, and the sudden reality check, the naked refection of the impossible and the final adieu.
It is tough, but it is all right. You curse yourself of not confessing, of being a coward, of being mad. But being mad is all right. If you aren’t mad in love, you are not in love. Yes, you could have just spoken your heart out to him. What for? He wasn’t ever made for you. You regret of being afraid, of not pouring out your feelings that might have changed your world, think what for, or question whether or not you were ever in his would even for a single moment. The answer hits you; you know it yourself. And that is exactly when you stop your journey and station yourself. That is when you know you ran behind something, which was running away from you. Let yourself free. Memories pull you back. But if you make your mind to board the wrong train again and get down to an unknown station, who knows you might find your soul mate, and, finally find yourself. Who knows; believe I believe. You should too.