A letter to T

It was one year ago that I first heard of your name, in brief description of an event that lead us to where we are now. A few months later, your name took a physical form and I have been entangled in a series of events catapulted from that first time. It was not a happy ocassion, it was full of tears, volumes of alcohol and several dosages of valium. That was normal for a broken heart. Time adds the missing ingredient and life goes on. Or, so I thought.

Dear T,
what saddens me the most is not how you're still not over your feelings, or how you're missing your best friend every morning but how hard you are on yourself. The brave front you finally managed to put up in the last few months turned out to be a facade, another layer of withdrawal where you can hide yourself from; maybe even from yourself. It was like trying to trick yourself to this "brave-face", to eventually gather the strength from your own projection. It worked for a while, until you tested it; only to find the image shattered the moment it hit water, leaving sharp objects on the open wound. You bled again.

I'm not an expert in healing a broken heart. God knows I had my own demons to worry about when it comes to relationships. What I've learned though is that being honest with yourself is the first step towards healing. That whole cliche of "if you love someone set them free" is true, too; and it should be looked at as less sacrificial on your part. Setting someone free also means setting yourself free first. You need to be free yourself of the what've, should've could've... and let it all go. Learning to accept there are things beyond your control is not easy. It never is.

I wish I can offer more than vague words, a hug and a listening ear. But trust that there are bigger forces in motion in our lifes and you will never be alone. Even if you don't believe it, I do. Hopefully it will be enough to carry you through. In time.

(The Hill, Oct 5, 2008)