Influences (or Why I Write the Way I Do)

Natalie Goldberg (free-flowing writing)
Clarissa Pinkola Estes (wild woman writing)
Jane Hutchison (direct-to-the-point writing)
Ernest Hemingway (simple words writing)

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

I am not OK

In my baul of blog drafts, I chanced upon this, dated 03 August 2012.  This is it.  The blog to capture the loss of yet another love, in its raw unedited form. 

it is incomplete to associate the death of a relationship to the death only of dreams and expectations. dreams and expectations are yet to be, are unreal and intangible, and so cannot capture the whole essence of relationships - the reality of it. that is existed, lived, throbbed in words, time, places and people. what we lost is not only dreams and expectations but also real words, real time, real places, and real people.

words that were not only promises but also assurances of a long and shared future of more than 50 years, our 'forever'. words forming names of love, endearment. words articulated in earnest. words enshrined in a poem, a song with an original melody. words said while awake and lucid. words said out loud, conscious of their meaning, their worth, their honour.  words that can only come from you.

time captured in texts, calls, skype, pictures. where the day is opened by a sweet greeting and the evening ended by deep conversation. time where every tomorrow is a source of hope for any imperfection encountered - a missed text, a missed call, a misunderstanding over skype, anything just missed.

places that were not only slept in but made love into, ate in, laughed in, lived in by a little child and her drawings. where the togetherness of three people have been witnessed, and deemed continuing ahead, ahead in all the coming years.

people whom we've learned to love and care for, called 'mama', 'ate', 'auntie', an extended family where there is open, unconditional acceptance to strangers just because they are loved.  people that have accepted you and me, from near and far away, who believed and were overjoyed that finally, there is us in the end.

we have lost all these.

i am not ok.
i am not ok as i wake up sad and sleep back weary.
i am not ok as i rationalize what happened, how and why, ending without any clear justification.
i am not ok as i overhaul and re-think a new future.
i am not ok as i am forced to summon strength beyond what exists inside.

it is not 'business as usual'. business-as-usual that you can text good morning, that you're having lunch somewhere, that you're having merienda with this and that, and then good night. as if any music you send will ease this pain.

you have yet to come to terms with this loss while wrapped up in the shadows of your now dark world.  you have yet to get out, look around, breathe in, fathom, and absorb what has been and perhaps, will never again be.

so just stop, please stop. stop. STOP!

there is only one answer to your texts, your questions. i am not ok.

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