Leaving
the community medicine rotation today with a heavy heart. Aside from the fact
that I got to enjoy things that I badly missed doing when in hospital
rotations, it was also in this rotation when I lost my more-than 3
year-relationship with my partner. It was a torture waking up each day knowing
that there are some things that you both used doing for the past years that you
just can’t do now, something that you once thought you can’t live without-and
then reality brutally strikes back at you.
All along, I had thought that the word “heartbreak” was just a metaphor
to describe deep sadness. I didn’t realize it was an actual descriptor. That
person who promised he would never let me get hurt, who said he would always be
there for me, whom I trusted with all my heart. He turned out to be the same
person who hurt me the most. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be unaffected
despite what happened. No pity parties, no sob stories. I was no sap.
I wanted to stand up tall and
overcome whatever was before me. And for the most part, I did. On the outside,
I dealt with it very well., appearing unfazed. I seemingly moved on with little
downtime. But inside me, was a little boy; small, vulnerable, angry and hurt. I
was crushed. As much as I tried to be strong, I couldn’t stop myself from
crying.
Trying
not to be overly nostalgic of the memories and f*cked up what if’s was like
setting fire to the rain. But eventually, I went an hour without
thinking of them, then a few hours, then a day, then a week.
Yet, a part of me still thinks about him. This tend to arise in
certain moments, such as when I am by myself, when my friends talk about their
relationships, when I see couples together, or when I am down. I would think
back about the past, and the times we were together. Thinking about him would
trigger different emotions. Sweetness and nostalgia from the happy times.
Confusion over why exactly he acted that way. Frustration, sadness and
disappointment from how things turned out. Regret over what could have been. Hatred
for how he dealt with the situation and breaking me on the inside. Over time,
these emotions had dried out into numbness.
Perhaps, to forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that
the prisoner was you. The final closure I needed was with myself. Looking back,
it has been a long journey these past 3 years. A journey filled with happiness,
hope, sadness, self-hate, and at the end of it, deep revelations, growth and an
all new self-awareness. I have realized that whenever we refuse to move on, we
prevent new things from entering into our life. The one’s we are punishing
isn’t the other person, but ourselves. When we let go of the past, we are in
essence allowing new things to enter into our lives. If we want to attract new
possibilities, we need to first release the old baggage we are hanging on to.
It’s never too late to start afresh.
When two lovers finally decided to part ways, their promise of
forever doesn’t necessarily end up just like that, for the romantic memories of
their yesterday will surely linger within their hearts and minds forever-just
like a tattoo.
