Wednesday, August 16, 2006
for me.e art of letting go
It's over. He's gone.
Why do we have to part
while the love is still there?
Why do we have to suffer?
Why do we have to cry
when somebody bids goodbye?
Why do beginnings have an end?
Why do we have to meet
only to lose in the end?
There are questions left unanswered,
words left unsaid,
letters left unread,
poems left undone,
songs left unsung,
love left unexpressed,
promises left unfulfilled.
In a relationship,
one of the hardest things to do
is saying goodbye and letting go.
It is as hard as breaking a crystal
because you'll never know when you
will be able to pick up the pieces again.
More often than not, they who go,
feel not the pain of parting:
it is they who stay behind that suffer,
because they are left
with memories of a love
that was meant to be,
a love that was.
At the beginning and at the end
of a relationship,
we are embarrassed to find ourselves alone.
Unfair as it may seem,
but that's the way love goes.
That's the drama, the bittersweet
and the risk of falling in love.
After all, nothing is constant but change.
Everything will eventually come to its end
without us knowing when,
without us knowing how,
without us even knowing why.
And we must forget not because we have to
but because we have to.
In letting go, sorrows come
not as a single spy but in batallion.
It seems that everywhere you go,
everything you do,
every song you hear, e
very turn of your head,
every move of your body,
every beat of your heart,
every blink of your eye and every breath
you take always reminds you of him.
It's like a stab of a knife,
a torture in the night.
Funny how the whole world becomes depopulated
when only one person is missing.
Just imagine,
there are billion people on earth
and yet it seems you feel lonely
and empty without the other.
I don't know if it's worth calling an art,
but letting go entails
special skills sparkled
with a considerable space and time.
Time heals all wounds but it takes
a little push on our part.
Acceptance plays a part.
Not all love stories end with
"...and they live happily ever after."
Sometimes we have to part because of
circumstances beyond our control.
We have to suffer if it would
mean happiness for others.
We have to cry to
temporarily let go of the pains.
Every beginning has its end
like every dawn has its dusk.
It's something we can't control,
something we had to live up.
It's over. He's gone.
But life has to go on.
Goodbye doesn't always mean forever.
There will always be a place and time
where questions will be answered,
words will be spoken,
letters will be read,
poems will be recited in the night,
songs will be sung in harmony,
love will be expressed in solitude
and promises will be fulfilled.
Somewhere. Somehow. Someday.
My name is Corrine and I dont think I really know who I am anymore. This is my blog, and maybe from here you'll find that I'm not exactly like the Corrine you used to think you knew.
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We'll laugh and sing on this lovely sunny day.
All your friends are waiting for you, ready to run and play.
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