Runs on food and music, will sing for chips and pasta.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Letter number one hundred and twenty seven: the days go on

Dearest J,

I have been in an emotional constant roller-coaster ride the past few months.  Endless negotiations (with myself) and pep talks, fears and hopes, nightmares and anxieties, fantasies and premonitions - facing the crucial milestones of my career.

Before I went to bed last night I had a thought about you, and the departure.  This is my reading of our story at this juncture of my life:

You met me and you took me in in your youthful but safe wings of love and care.  Though we both grew and mature into our own passions and as best friends - I felt more like the flower being cared and groomed in the garden of this romance, and you the carefree but certain gardener.

When you left, though it felt like at first that I got ejected out of the safe and warm green room and left alone in the wild jungle...

But now I feel all different and new now, 4 years apart and a gazillion emotional and spiritual awakenings later.  Your departure is what forced me to grow into the fiercely alive person who holds on to dreams and waiting questions, I became more patient with uncertainties and future, and with my own shortcomings.

You leave me so that I be better than what I was yesterday.

A somewhat tragic equation at first...since there is no turning back to that day of your Ulu Yam ride, I take this in a strike that this is how it's meant to be: You must leave me to make me a better human.

And how lucky that we have shared those wonderful 8 years (warts and all) together as lovers and best friends - the ingredients for my growing in the last 4 years.

I am good, am not sad anymore today.  We have lived and that's what matter.

I love you, forever and more,
B

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