Its been too short a time since I last wept. You would think that at this stage in my life, life would be a peach. Well I thought it was a peach. A peach with the perfect shade of orange mixed with reds and browns. Fuzzy, soft and firm at the same time, with the smell of summer, of would be adventures and sweet days ahead wrapped up in that one luscious fruit.
Yet the fruit to best describe where my life is right now would not be a peach. I honestly don't know what fruit it would be... but perhaps it would be an apple. A boring old apple, bruised, rotted slightly, lying on the shelf, hoping to be picked to be made into something more. Perhaps a jam, a preserve or even heavens forbid, an apple pie.
I am weeping again. The tracks of my tears that fall are like the raindrops falling from the Heavens. There was just too much to bear that it had to pour forth, streaking down my face leaving a trial that eventually dries and fades away with time. Gosh, how much rain there has been this year. A very trying year I have to say and it is not even over. Note: Its not to say that this year has been the utter pits, it has been pretty good too...
I don't want to evaluate my year now, not when there is a good 2 months plus left of it. So much can happen in that time I am sure. What I have been doing in bits and pieces is reevaluating my life. Where I am and where I stand with myself. I tend to do this when change is knocking on my door and when I think, should I open the door for change or should I wait just a little bit longer?
My quest for finding me has been waylaid. My dreams and hopes put on a shelf for a later time. There were more important things that needed my attention it seemed, but perhaps that is where my downfall lies, in putting these things aside instead of in the fore front.
Friends of mine tell me relentlessly how stupid I am for allowing people to lay their hands on me or to abuse me with words when people should instead hold my hands and build me up with their words, not tear me down. After all, what is said often enough becomes true sometimes. So, after thinking about it, my fears, my insecurities at not being good enough, or thin enough or beautiful enough stems from these words. These words that hurt met, that kill me, that make sick inside... and the sad part is that they are the ones doing this to me in the end. I am such a glutton for disappointment.
So here I am. On a Friday night, a night which I look forward to the most out of the whole week, sitting on my parquet floor in my room, my clothes discarded in a pile, my bags and books beside me, my bed behind me, Deepavali fireworks ringing in the background, tissues scattered beside me with tears rolling down my checks, wondering what this post is truly about and nursing a wounded heart and a torn soul.
But no worries. Tomorrow is another day I tell myself. My family needs me to move on for them. To provide for them. To give them hope. To make them laugh. To be the 3rd generation banker. To go on and along with the rest of the world. At least I know I am needed by them if no one else... that keeps me going.
The Pastor at Christian Fellowship said today that suffering can make one bitter or better, softer or harder. A very timely reminder of the choices that we can make.
Well, welcome weekend. There is always hope of it being an awesome weekend.
At times like this, I miss you the most.