To my dear broken hearted friends. I remember writing on my wall when I was about sixteen: the saddest tale of the human heart is that of goodbye. There is no other word more potent, no other word more conclusive or final than goodbye. It marks the closing of a chapter. The shutting of a door to what we are familiar to thus far. The end of the road that we have traveled on for a certain amount of time. An ending, especially in the relationship department can be particularly painful, since we are bestowed with a fully functional brain capable of storing the most minuscule memory, however brief, however insignificant at that point of time. And at that, there is no way at all those memories would leave us in due time unless we get banged up pretty seriously in the head and develop an amnesia.
In tales of loss, separation or death, these memories can become a curse. It is what holds us back most of the time in the past, makes us yearn and yearn and yearn for what has been, and turns us into love fools wondering time and again how it might have been if only we hung on for one more night, one more time. In the dead of the night when we are alone in our beds staring up at the ceiling, we might find ourselves wandering back to the days of yore, capture an affectionate smile in the golden sunlight, a flash of happy moment suspended in time, picture perfect. We may hear the whispers of love and laughter long gone but not quite erased, grasp again the warm embrace and the familiar tangling of fingers intertwined. And get sucked into that compelling but dangerous world that only belonged to us and the person we held closest to our hearts. It is a dark, forsaken place to visit, especially when wounds are still raw and hearts are still bleeding. But many are drawn to the temptation nonetheless. Like fluttering moths to light, they race back to the sparkling ethereal joy that romance and love brings, even after that world ceases to exist but in their minds.
Yes, I’ve been traveling down memory lane for quite a bit of late…not necessarily my own, but that of the people near me. Transported back into time, I walked their paths, heard their stories, acknowledged their trials and tribulations, and understood their pain. There were dramatic tales aplenty. And in their rage and confusion, laced with alcohol in their systems, they asked why, why and why when all of the time the answers were staring back at them unblinkingly.
See me, the answers whispered and taunted. The world isn’t made of fairy tale substances. It is a wicked, wicked place interwoven by lies, deceit, violence, betrayal, scandals and pain. And just because we have a conscience and stand by our principles all the time doesn’t guarantee that we would end up with a partner who thinks and perceives things likewise. And unlike a perfect situation, good isn’t always paid in kind. And bad does not always end up the loser. At times, giving our very best does not insure us from heartache. Well, life isn’t always fair. I guess most of us know this quite intimately already by now.
And so, I found myself surrounded by a deep sense of solemnity and dejection as the broken hearted struggled on to find their inner peace:
How could one be so cold? So unfeeling? So harsh? So lacking of conscience? How could someone we love so much hurt us so much? How could a person just love and leave…built up a world together and watched it crumble in front of their very eyes without so much as a blink?
I could only gape back in return and offer them my silence. Words would slice, I know. And how could I advise on the delicate matters of the heart when I am not involved and it is always easier said than done? I’ve been through my fair share, enough for me to know that it is easy to tell someone to forget the past and move on. But magnificently harder for one to really destroy the emotions that have taken root for quite some time and leave everything behind. Worse, there is no right or wrong. No black or white. But multiple shades of gray. Solutions one can never quite put their fingers on no matter how much they try.
At the end of the day, all I could offer is that love never promised to be a bed of roses all the way. And though it is hard, we should learn to take the bitter with the sweet. We should see love, like life, as a journey mapped by our memories through the years…memories with the different people we have shared our lives with at one point or another. We all arrived in this world alone, and when we leave, we’d take no one and nothing but ourselves. And during our lifetime, not one person really belongs to us for us to carry forth forever or however long we wish to. People come, and people go, individuals with their own rights and own mind, and at that, own paths. Paths may meet and paths may diverge. But we need to walk on and on until the end and hold on to the faith that if we moved on, we would find other interesting characters to build our memories with, characters we might never have the chance to meet if we were too blinded by the past and what has been. After all, the closing of a chapter means the starting of a new one. The shutting of a door would lead to the opening of either a window or another door. And the end of the road beckons us to find a new, possibly enchanting path, the way travelers had long before there were roads.
So my dear broken hearts, be gentle with yourselves. Grieve or cry if you have to. You are entitled to. But don’t beat yourself lowdown. Leave a bit of vitality and faith to move along the tide of life as best as you know how as soon as you can. And hopefully we’ll all keep building memories – good ones – all the way to the end. God bless all.
