Remembering PinkyTas
April, as TS Eliot told us, is the cruelest month, mixing memory and desire. For myself, it surely is. For April is when reality bites, and dashed dreams are blamed on the unfairness of it all, when you suffer injuries for loving someone you can’t be with. For some strange reason, life continues to lead me to the same path, bemoaning the absence of PinkyTas, wondering wistfully: “Nobody knows what the future holds, but I’d love to have her in my life and make her mine”.
If I book a date with God, this question will top my list –“Why do You keep sending me people that I’d fall in love only to take her way?”. To a degree, I know I had a legitimate point, judging from the scars and bruises sustained from the many falls I had in the past. Despite these unpleasant experience, it became harder and harder to pick myself up again. Every fall has a different story, but the pain felt similar. And PinkyTas, has her own unique tale.
With hindsight, it was easy to wish we had never crossed path, only for it to end in tears. But her presence had a blessing – she restored my faith in humanity. Long before, this heart had turned cold, shrank away into oblivion, the heartbeat had long stopped, motionless. Complacent with this feeling and leaving everything to faith, the unthinkable happened. To my wonder, this heart started to beat, after a long silence. Every little thoughts about her, melted this heart, putting a smile on this otherwise depressing face. She reminds me the joy of being human – to trust, to love, to be loved and to cherish the moments. Perhaps God is fair after all, realizing the diminishing human qualities in me, He sent me His precious gift.
A good heart, a trait I rarely find in others, is what she has and displays. As someone who had her fair share of disappointing relationships, I thought she would be reserved, hiding her eyes behind the fall of her hair. But instead, she neither hold back nor conceal her love, being what her heart solely believes in. I grinned, loving her clumsiness with anything unthinkable, from injuring herself with office stationeries to denting her car ramming through the toll gate. Being the complex and confused person that I am, I knew that her little quirks and mannerisms have got the better of any fear or pain that I had . She would usually leave a distinct sweet scent on her path, leading me to where she will be. I never dream that there will again come a time when this heart would warmed up by a mere presence of a woman.
As the old adage goes, nothing last forever. Every history student knows that Rome wouldn’t fall without battles and bloodshed. To own her, means to be able to fight for her. But while knowing she was worth every drop of your blood and sweat, marching to the battlefield with hands tied behind your back was a predicament. Left in a quandary, I found myself lamenting my inadequacies and failings to go the distance. There will be a lot of ‘what-ifs’, but dwelling on it would only lead me blaming myself, breaking me into pieces. In her words – “We’re two parallel lines that will never meet”. It was life’s little ironies, PinkyTas that puffed life in this pitiable soul became the kryptonite that squeezed this heart, shedding tears that choked my throat. In the midst of hopes withering away, glimpse of the future of what it would have been, begins to fade. Reluctantly, this faint heart succumbed to the excruciating reality of life without her, that the road ahead is less winding being with someone else, and not me.
As the dust settles, I mulled over before seeking ways to cope with the flip-side of fortune. Letting go is never easy, especially of PinkyTas who had resided dearly in my heart. Forgetting seems impossible, as she had been part of my growing up, part of this miracle transformation. The hardest bit had always been accepting the fact that she will have a picture hung on the wall somewhere someday, but without you in it. There was no way of knowing how long it takes to heal. There is a good chance that the pain will be so bad that I could be struggling for breath, chest heaving, and my eyes wet with pain and fear. Fear of being forgotten, like pages of a book we flipped through as we proceeded to the next chapter. All that was possible, even probable, I had become angry and tearful at the thought of inflicting any of those things on myself. And I somehow knew, that it hurts me more to see her unhappy, trapped in a circle of recurring sadness, unable to move on. And she has moved on since then and I could only pray that the ‘glass slipper’ will fit her one day.
If it’s any consolation, her heart falls for a better choice, which assured me that she will be in safe hands. I couldn’t stop myself believing that it would be too much, that I would crumple and come apart, that the moment will be wiped away and I would be a sobbing child once more. But I assured myself that I will be alright, and that is the only choice left. I have to be alright. Depression is a nest for ill-feelings, with jealousy and hatred lurking and ready to cloud over a heavy heart. But I needed to know if I could live without all these negative emotions. More than this, I imagine that one day I could see her and a man of her choice without guilt, anguish and agony. That I could love everyone, all the time. Then a dear friend asked me–“U can’t be an angel. That would have undone everything that she did to you”. She made me human to have the joy to feel her love, despite the inevitable dejection and wretchedness. After all the beautiful memories and first-time moments, all that matters is what I choose to remember PinkyTas for. And that would be – how she had become the other half that defines me.
If I book a date with God, this question will top my list –“Why do You keep sending me people that I’d fall in love only to take her way?”. To a degree, I know I had a legitimate point, judging from the scars and bruises sustained from the many falls I had in the past. Despite these unpleasant experience, it became harder and harder to pick myself up again. Every fall has a different story, but the pain felt similar. And PinkyTas, has her own unique tale.
With hindsight, it was easy to wish we had never crossed path, only for it to end in tears. But her presence had a blessing – she restored my faith in humanity. Long before, this heart had turned cold, shrank away into oblivion, the heartbeat had long stopped, motionless. Complacent with this feeling and leaving everything to faith, the unthinkable happened. To my wonder, this heart started to beat, after a long silence. Every little thoughts about her, melted this heart, putting a smile on this otherwise depressing face. She reminds me the joy of being human – to trust, to love, to be loved and to cherish the moments. Perhaps God is fair after all, realizing the diminishing human qualities in me, He sent me His precious gift.
A good heart, a trait I rarely find in others, is what she has and displays. As someone who had her fair share of disappointing relationships, I thought she would be reserved, hiding her eyes behind the fall of her hair. But instead, she neither hold back nor conceal her love, being what her heart solely believes in. I grinned, loving her clumsiness with anything unthinkable, from injuring herself with office stationeries to denting her car ramming through the toll gate. Being the complex and confused person that I am, I knew that her little quirks and mannerisms have got the better of any fear or pain that I had . She would usually leave a distinct sweet scent on her path, leading me to where she will be. I never dream that there will again come a time when this heart would warmed up by a mere presence of a woman.
As the old adage goes, nothing last forever. Every history student knows that Rome wouldn’t fall without battles and bloodshed. To own her, means to be able to fight for her. But while knowing she was worth every drop of your blood and sweat, marching to the battlefield with hands tied behind your back was a predicament. Left in a quandary, I found myself lamenting my inadequacies and failings to go the distance. There will be a lot of ‘what-ifs’, but dwelling on it would only lead me blaming myself, breaking me into pieces. In her words – “We’re two parallel lines that will never meet”. It was life’s little ironies, PinkyTas that puffed life in this pitiable soul became the kryptonite that squeezed this heart, shedding tears that choked my throat. In the midst of hopes withering away, glimpse of the future of what it would have been, begins to fade. Reluctantly, this faint heart succumbed to the excruciating reality of life without her, that the road ahead is less winding being with someone else, and not me.
As the dust settles, I mulled over before seeking ways to cope with the flip-side of fortune. Letting go is never easy, especially of PinkyTas who had resided dearly in my heart. Forgetting seems impossible, as she had been part of my growing up, part of this miracle transformation. The hardest bit had always been accepting the fact that she will have a picture hung on the wall somewhere someday, but without you in it. There was no way of knowing how long it takes to heal. There is a good chance that the pain will be so bad that I could be struggling for breath, chest heaving, and my eyes wet with pain and fear. Fear of being forgotten, like pages of a book we flipped through as we proceeded to the next chapter. All that was possible, even probable, I had become angry and tearful at the thought of inflicting any of those things on myself. And I somehow knew, that it hurts me more to see her unhappy, trapped in a circle of recurring sadness, unable to move on. And she has moved on since then and I could only pray that the ‘glass slipper’ will fit her one day.
If it’s any consolation, her heart falls for a better choice, which assured me that she will be in safe hands. I couldn’t stop myself believing that it would be too much, that I would crumple and come apart, that the moment will be wiped away and I would be a sobbing child once more. But I assured myself that I will be alright, and that is the only choice left. I have to be alright. Depression is a nest for ill-feelings, with jealousy and hatred lurking and ready to cloud over a heavy heart. But I needed to know if I could live without all these negative emotions. More than this, I imagine that one day I could see her and a man of her choice without guilt, anguish and agony. That I could love everyone, all the time. Then a dear friend asked me–“U can’t be an angel. That would have undone everything that she did to you”. She made me human to have the joy to feel her love, despite the inevitable dejection and wretchedness. After all the beautiful memories and first-time moments, all that matters is what I choose to remember PinkyTas for. And that would be – how she had become the other half that defines me.
posted by Ijoe @ 7:50 AM
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