They say there’s time for everything: love, joy, pain, and healing.
It’s somehow a human process—to love, be loved, be hurt, and be healed. Often times, each process takes time to transpire; often times, each process takes time to be felt. But also, often times, the hardest wounds to heal are the deepest ones—the ones that did not just cut you into pieces but also left you barely breathing.
In pain, some people find themselves barely stitched together by cords of flesh that only takes one full blow to break. In pain, most people find themselves walking without a direction, sometimes without a path; sometimes without a self, sometimes without a heart.
When the heart breaks royally, it breaks for good. Some people grow a new heart, some people try to piece it back together; but often times, people just do not know what to do—because we all grew accustomed to the fact that we only have one heart, that humans don’t grow another heart; that once we’re broken, we’re broken forever.
It’s sad but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life, starts with goodbye.
Alice sits there, feeling nothing but fear of feeling something.
She still remembers the way it felt to believe for the first time and she also still remembers how it felt to be left alone and broken on a sidewalk, under the rain with a love letter in one hand a shattered perspective on the other.
She knew it was bound to end. It seemed like a roller-coaster ride: it started oh so slowly, built up momentum, reached the peak, slid down, turned around, and the moment she really wanted more, it came to a full stop. The next thing she knew, she had nowhere else to go.
Like every person in the planet, she hated not knowing where to go or if there was any place to go.
So, she walked amongst a sea of strangers not making eye contact, not making any connection at all because everybody seemed to be a roller-coaster to her; that everybody’s going to be just a one, sweet roller-coaster ride that eventually comes to a full stop.
For a time, she felt like a repercussion of her past; like she didn’t have a future, only a past and a barely there present. There was a time she felt like a zombie: a creature made out of a series of mistakes, walking around at night lifeless and aimless; willing to jump at any flesh that came her way.
There was time that it seemed as if she was a scar on the face of the planet or the US flag that stood right where the Twin Towers were before it crashed into ashes: every time she looked at herself, she was only reminded of the pain, of the mistakes.
For a time, she felt like the epitome of the Big Bang Theory or that she’s the world right after the Big Bang: a composition of broken pieces of fragments, stories and lives that were once whole, and words that were once poetry.
So, for a time, Alice feared feelings. Alice feared changes. She stayed unharmed, holding on to a thin rope that did two things at once: save and strangle.
Live or die—she only had two choices.
On one fateful day of September, Alice chose to live.
I will go rolling fast, arms out in the rain
Feel the momentum building, ’til I lift off the ground like an airplane
The moment I chose to live again was the moment I decided to let go of everything that held me back—from the memories to the fear.
Have you ever been to a room full of people and feel alone all at once?
It was like a splash of water to a sleeping drunkard or a fresh morning after a night of downpour; or it could be as simple as a wake-up call on a Monday morning telling you, “Pick yourself up and start again.”
September is my December-—that one month of the year to take one last look at the time that passed by, to feel one last pinch at the things that hurt, and to smile one last time at the good things that happened.
Letting go was a hard task, scary even. Letting go of a love and confusion that lasted three years, it felt like closing your eyes to everything you know about your life.
It felt like letting go of everything you’ve invested on—like breaking the piggy bank you had when you were six.
But I guess, after all the starts and stops, letting go is necessary. To fully move on with the rest of your life, you have to let go of the rope and jump to the water. Close your eyes as you feel your breath hitch under the water and then resurface victoriously.
As I resurfaced from underneath, I gained a brand new perspective of the world in front of me. I realized that I am not a result of the past but a product of the present. I realized that the world went on without me. I realized that there are other people who can love me and listen to me as I speak about metonymy and post-modernism and accept just how much of a geek I am.
I realized that while I was busy hating the world, the world never hated me back; that while I was busy turning my back on love, love never turned its back on me.
All this time, I realized that keeping myself away from pain was the thing that hurt me the most because along with it, I shielded myself from the most wonderful feeling in the world.
So, I bid goodbye to everything about the past—good and bad, right and wrong, happy and sad. It is indeed both bitter and sweet but as we begin again, it is important to start with a clean, unscathed page.
On one fateful day of September, my December happened.
On one fateful day of September, I started over again.
On one fateful day of September, I felt again.