*I posted this on my Multiply account last 11.15.08*
“I’ve watched love get closer
And then fade away
I’ve seen you believe in me
I’ve seen you trying to stay
But what good is holding on
When you know that all
You can think about is letting go
They say if you love someone
Then set them free
If they come back again
Then in the end it was meant to be
No matter how hard we try
Some good things never last
All you can think about is letting go
Be true to yourself, my love
That’s all I ever wanted you to be
Just don’t forget to smile
When you think of me”
–Some Good Things Never Last, Barbra Streisand
I sang that song few years ago… And I’m singing it once again… And like that memory of long ago, I’m writing down this one, too..
It has been months since I last wrote something..a poem, a letter, an article and a mere line or two.. My Muse has been beckoning me to write.. The Graces were whispering in soft, low voices..telling me to go back to writing.. The nymphs were flooding my mind with vivid breathtaking imagery.. Beautiful, vibrant words.. Exquisite, melancholic texts; Mine to create into a splendid composition. But, I backed down.. I walked away from the Muses.. I disregarded the Graces.. I ignored the nymphs.. And went my way.. I let idleness reign my days..
Then the day came. A day I knew would eventually come. I have seen it coming. Felt the woeful gust blown by the poignant wind. I knew that sooner or later we have to part ways. I sensed it when things went haywire; when certain things happened that was out of my control. Just like our communication means which hold a big part in our relationship. And though I was somewhat aware of it, it still brought me pain.
On that day (night) he told me that he can’t keep up with our situation anymore. He can no longer stand our distance. He doesn’t want matters to get worse. I understand his point. Much as I wanted to hold on & not let go, I knew I had to. For the better. I would have asked him to hang on and stick around. To tell him that I know we’ll make it through. I would have asked him to stay. But, I know that would be selfish of me to do so, knowing that I will be the only one in bliss. And I just can’t bear to be selfish. I can’t bear to see him hurting and in travail. So, I had to give in.
I don’t want that time to arrive wherein our love would turn into hate because we pushed ourselves to the edge; because we were pressured; because we feel like we are being choked inside a detrimental relationship; because we are drowning in a destructive affair. I don’t want that to happen for it will only make us bitter persons maybe wallowing in self-pity, full of regrets or at the height of disparaging anger.
I know the life of a bitter person. I’ve been there. It was pure hell. You only have destructive thoughts. You only think of how to get even. You think of revenge. You become murderous or even suicidal (Although I was not; I was more murderous than suicidal). Days are bleak. Hours are dreary. Nights are lonely. All hope seem lost. Depression triggers. You become so absorbed in vengeance you get stranded in the middle of nowhere; stuck up in the dark. Never seeing light. Never wanting light. You neglect to get a life, to live a life. You forget to move on, to move forward and get over it. Instead of getting a productive life, you take the loss by being bitter. A bitter life is simply a harsh life. I don’t want him to feel it; especially not with me and not because of me. So, we had to go our own way and live separate lives.
With the turn of events, a closing of a chapter took place on that cold November night. It hurts to see even his photographs. I was aching for a lost love. Promises and plans for the future shattered into pieces, turned into dust and blown by the wind to a vague distant land. Once again I have to deal with a broken heart conceived on that same chilly November night.
Just as gloom started to overwhelm me, raindrops started to fall as if in sympathy on my elegiac state. Even my cat seemed to sense my sorrow for he was ill the following day. The rain continued to pour on that day, too, as I savor my sorrow to soften the pain; as I acknowledge the sting in my broken yet beating heart.
Just like what I believed on that memory of days gone by, maybe we weren’t just meant to be. Maybe we’re better off as friends. Maybe he’d be better off with someone else who can give and who is willing to give more than I can and more than I will. Maybe this time wasn’t ours. Maybe we are not supposed to be together in this lifetime. Though it brought pain in our hearts to know that “we” won’t work, I’m relieved to know that atleast we tried. We gave our best and it didn’t suffice. I wish him good luck. I wish him all the best. I pray that he would find that long-awaited golden day and that I may find it, too.
I think my favorite author was right when he asked why it feels so right to write during our sad moments. For I heeded my Muse’s beckons.. I didn’t turn a deaf ear to the Graces.. I noticed the nymphs..few nights after a chapter in my life was closed.. I passed over my sluggishness to succumbed to my Muse’s calling..to the murmur of the Graces with that velvety, gentle voice and to the nymph’s painting of picturesque, astounding words.. For I captured my thoughts to write on this cold November night.