The Aftermath

THE AFTERMATH

 

The only time you realise how much you've grown and changed is during conversation with an old friend"

I read that somewhere and strange enough, I related perfectly to it.

 

As I ponder through my primary and early high school photos, I am forced to deal with the reality that that little girl has disappeared ages ago!

I know I will probably say the same about myself  in 10-20 years from now!

 

The memories created back then are just as much a part of my life now as those I am still creating as the new and perhaps improved me. I sometimes dig deep and use the innocent strength of the little girl I once was to fight the battles I do today. A little unfair? Perhaps. But she was faithful. A little blind and too trusting perhaps, but she had a faith and it is that faith that I use , that I need to slay the monsters of today. To be able to stand in the midst of it all and say "I was there. I made it!"

 

I don't have much of that little girl, except memories and a faith that it too shall come to pass. It was her, it was that little girl who taught me to laugh with abandonment, cry with emotion, touch with love and handle with care. I stand today in the rubble, the mess, the aftermath and I ask her to not only walk for me, but also teach me how.

 

The Aftermath!

How did I even get here? I made a list of all the things I thought could have led me here.; all the faulty decisions I perhaps made, all the times I lied, cheated and stole. Where did I go wrong? Where did I fail? This is not who I wanted to be.1 I never planned to pan out like this!

There really is no straight answer to some of life's questions. I had a map of all the roads I took that eventually possibly led me to this burning field of impurity and regret, and I realised it wasn't going to work. I had to find a different approach.

You see, as you grow older, your reasoning changes. What I shyed away from as a child, is now open for discussion at the dinner table. What was absolutely essential back then is now packed away in a little box I hardly ever open (that's if I still have it)

 

Growth is inevitable, change is crucial, and trust is essential.

This forces me to think though; is the aftermath then not the wake-up call we all so desperately desire but are too busy fooling ourselves with a fake layer of contentment to realise how absolutely unhappy our monotony is making us?

As children, we dream of our perfect lives and plan our perfect futures. When those dreams and plans become dulled with responsibility and bills to pay, we sneak into the nearest corner and tell ourselves that we are happy with what we have...until that old friend call you up and you both start to remember what it was supposed to have been like. Then, just like me, you stand in an open veld fire and make up little stories and lies explaining why your dreams are kept in boxes and hidden compartments, why you are where you are instead of where you are supposed to be.
"But I'll come back later", the most common excuse!

 

Then you stand in a pool of flashbacks and question how you got there. Did you build your empire, or just an empire? Are you who you promised yourself as a child, you were going to grow up to be?

As you stand in the rubble, the mess, the loss, fold your map. You took the road your maturity at the time told you was best. Forget the regret and time wasted. Who are you now? Where are you? Is that little child proud? (Please do not misunderstand me. I am not asking you to quit your job in the army to become a violin player like you dreamt, or something of that sort.)

 

Me? This is my aftermath. I am a little lost, and a little confused, but that is all right. Somewhere in the rubble I will find myself . The world has broken me into a million tiny pieces, but that is fine. I'll pick them up and together we will start again. Her faith will glue me together and hand-in-hand we shall walk.

Finding strength in sorrow

STRONG

We had been friends for many years. We talked about anything and everything imaginable. O f course we often fought, but nothing we couldn't recover from. Oh, how I miss our long chats and popcorn on the stairs. The long walks we took when we were supposed to be studying, and the blame games that followed when our midnight oils left us grouchy and moody.

The laughter, the innocence and the comfort. We were best friends and nothing could separate us.That was what we thought until today 2 years ago

We fought, and unlike all the other times, we failed to recover. I doubt we ever will. Yes, we forgave and forgetting is a path we are still discovering.

Why am I telling you all this, you may ask? Well, under normal circumstances, I'd be the first to say "friendship is one of the greatest gifts ever. Don't let a stupid little argument come in between something so beautiful and true. Fight for your friend and fight for what you don't want to lose." , or something along those lines.
Well, you see, experience has taught me that "normal" doesn't exist. There are no "normal circumstances" and "normal people". I am different from the next person (thankfully) and our friendship was one of a kind! I would love to fight if that would change anything. I would love to have another stupid conversation about the weather and music and parents and future plans, with my best friend, and I am sure he would love to as well, but we can't. You see, had it not been for that fight, that argument, we would never have discovered how strong we are as individuals.

That night, truths were revealed and scandals exposed. We had to decide what was more important and so we painfully realised that even our priorities are different. After so many years of being inseparable, we stood and questioned what could've possibly kept us so close. We realised that as the years went on, we had become our own persons but still fitted perfectly with each other and the rest of our circle.

I knew that being being his friend after what had happened would mean having everyone else turn their backs on me. Little did I know tat he was in the exact same boat.

We chose to terminate our friendship not because of the people or their pressures, but because we knew that even though we tried, it would never return to the way they once had been.

All that was today, 2 years ago.

The hurt was overwhelming and the loss unbearable. We had so many plans together and survived so many sticky (literally) situations. We got into and out of trouble together and navigated our way through life, self-discovery, learnt emotional stability, and with each day that passed, we understood the meaning of friendship in its purest and truest form. i will be grateful for the few years I had him as a companion and brother.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is; people will come into ones life for reasons not always clear to oneself.  I had to lose him to know what he meant to me and understand the lessons I had learnt by being his friend. This may sound cruel and a bit heartless but; not all friendships are meant to last forever. We tried to save what we could but it had long become clear that our roles in each others' life scripts were over. We had no part to play anymore.

I'm not sad anymore. I'm thankful, because I know now that it is okay. I understand that in order to know what you have, sometimes you have to let it go .

Of all the lessons life has taught, only a few are worth sharing with the world. I have learnt that the strongest aren't those who don't cry. The strongest people are those who know the difference ween a time to fight and a time to let go because you know it wasn't meant to be.

So, whoever you are, and whatever you are going through, think about this; how strong are you right now? Are you holding on and fighting for the right reasons?



Fail Proof

Fail proof

Failure Proof? Really? Is there such a thing? I mean, can we bubble wrap ourselves and become resistant to failure? Isn't failure part of the "roller-coaster ride" that we are supposed to enjoy? I don't know. I guess it all depends who you are and how you look at situations.

I was once told you can "prevent" bad luck and failure, so let's try. Let's put our salt in magnetic canisters and perhaps they wont fall over. Shut your eyes if you suspect it was a black cat that you just saw. Perhaps you will get only three and a half years. Cement every crack in your home and pray the plumber survives. Please, go ahead, let's bubble wrap and box ourselves to prevent bad luck. This makes me wonder though; by becoming captives in our own world, by letting our superstitions and trivial fears bind us, are we not subjecting ourselves to the worst kind of luck? But then again, it all boils down to who you are and how you look at it.

I believe the same goes for failure. We fail to live because of the fear of failure. We dare not try that dance move because of the what-ifs. We fail to ask that question in class because of the fear of what people might say. We fail to try for the marathon in case we don't get the gold. "oh the sheer humiliation."
But of all that, the greatest fear that we should have is regret! Is it not better to try and fail than to fail to try? Easier said than done, you might think. Well, you see, I'm not one for motivational poetry and such outrun, outdated and overdone lifestyle quotes. Me? I'm practical. I know what I'm talking about. I've been there. For years I lived not only with the fear of failure, but failure itself!
Stepping away from my fails and bad luck wasn't due to some miraculous set of circumstances (unless you consider time and age as such.), it was a decision! My mistakes and fails aren't going to keep me confined to some dark corner. NO! Not anymore! In my fear I have found freedom.

You know what I say now? Leave the salt on the table. If it falls, I'll draw pictures. Leave the cracks on the ground, lets play hop-scotch. Invite the black cat over for a play date (if he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to. There are no excuses for deliberately hurting yourself or the animal while you were forcing it to roll over ad purr. I wont be held liable for such!)

Failure proof? I am! I'm human and I will fall. But I wont cry over skinned knees. I will appreciate how beautiful the world looks when one is on the ground.
If you think you are, then you are right. If you think you are not, you are still right. It all depends on you look at it!