When I started this blog a few months ago, I initially intended it for my solo adventures. At the risk of infusing an "emo-feel" to this post, let us just say that I was trying to heal my broken heart back then (still broken, by the way haha). I guess, I was tired of wallowing in self pity that I felt like I simply had to go away. Far away. Alone.
So off I went on my own for ten days. It was beautiful. I was euphoric. For a while there, I forgot that I was brokenhearted. For ten days or so, that wound in my heart seemed to have stopped throbbing painfully. My tear ducts seemed to have ran out of supply for once. I was happy. I was so sure that there's no more going back to that gloomy place I had been holing myself in for more than a year now. I thought I was brillant! At least, I thought I was...
A few days after I got back from my solo adventure, the novelty of it all started wearing off. My self induced "anesthesia" started to wane out. I logged in on my facebook account only to see a picture of the man I love with his newborn baby Patrick. I smiled and remembered how just a year ago, we talked about naming our first boy "Patrick." Only, the baby in the picture isn't mine. And so was he, at least, not anymore. And just like that, I found myself back to square one. It's like I never left.
I realized that the aftermath is not exactly as sweet as I thought it would be. I can go on a double trip to hell and back and things will not go away just like that. I will still hurt. I will still cry whenever I remember him.
But going away reminded me that it will not hurt like this forever. That things do get better in time. So I am a bit hopeful... I will keep on trying until one day, it doesn't hurt as much to remember.
Where should I go next?
