Just when you thought you had life cut out for you somebody pulls out the rug and you ended up landing on the ground. Hurt. Swept away as if the wind knocked out the life out on you.
That's what I felt two years ago or so from today. Life was doing good. You can't complain. Then suddenly a big storm comes bringing havoc and chaos to your once little pleasant life. You try to stand up and rebuild but the ground had become too soft and shaky that no foundation could withstand it.
So I ran away. My once stepping stone to our big plans became my excuse and solace to breathe - away from what seem to me was a suffocating space. My then paradise was now a garden full of weeds. No matter how hard I try, it seemed to me that the weeds are out to get me. I knew I had to go.
Escaping and hiding was a big risk I was willing to take. For my sake. Though it pains me to leave the people I love, I had no choice. Shielding them from my pain has always been my first instinct.
Now the past had come up again. I was way better now than I ever was before. Nothing could ever surprise me at this point, and yet I feel there should be something more than what I am feeling right now. As one quiz I took said, "I am getting there," but what does it mean? I've been trying my best to get by and I know I'm getting better at it.
But I still feel lost. The sun is slowly peeking through the clouds yet the road still seems blurry. I envy him actually because he is now on his way to a new beginning. Again. And here I am, still picking up the remaining pieces.
I'm almost done, by the way. Just a little tidying up and I'm on my way.
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