The Art of Letting Go

It is over. She is gone. Why is this so hard to believe? Why does hope keep burning even though the fuel has ran out? Why is it that we part when the love is still there? Why do we have to suffer? Why do beginnings have an end? Why do we meet only to be lost in the end? There are questions left unanswered, words left unsaid, love left unexpressed, promises left unfulfilled.

In a relationship, the hardest thing to do is saying goodbye and letting go. It's as hard as breaking a crystal because you never know when and if you will be able to pick up the pieces and join them again. More often than not, the one who goes, doesn't feel the pain of parting. It is the one who stays behind that suffers, because they are left with memories of a love that they thought was meant to last, a love that was.

It's always been that at the beginning and at the end of a relationship, we are afraid to find ourselves alone. Unfair as it may seem, but that's how love works sometimes. THAT is the drama, the bittersweet and the risk of falling in love. After all, nothing is constant but change. Everything will eventually come to an end without us knowing how, when and even why. And we must forget, not because we have to but because we HAVE to.

In letting go, sorrows come. Not as a single entity but a covey. Then it feels as if everywhere you go, in everything you do, in every song you hear, at every turn of your head, every beat of your heart and every breath you take, you are reminded of her. It is like stab of a knife, a torture. It's funny how the whole world seems empty when only one person is missing.

I wonder if it really is an art. But letting go entails certain 'skills' sprinkled with a considerable amount of time. They say time heals all wounds, though some scars remain forever. Acceptance plays a part. Not all love stories end with "...and they lived happily ever after."

Sometimes we part because of circumstances beyond our control. Sometimes we suffer so that the other one is happy. We cry to ease the pain, to try to let go. Every beginning has an end. Every dawn has its dusk. It's something beyond our control. Something we just have to accept.

It's over. She's gone. But life has to go on. Goodbye doesn't mean it has to be for ever. Maybe there will be a time and place when questions will be answered, words will be spoken, love will be expressed in solitude and promises will be fulfilled. Somewhere. Somehow. Someday.

I wish I could make my heart understand what I just wrote...