True vs. I believe

It takes years to build trust and a few moments of folly to break it, they say. But life leads me to believe otherwise. There are situations in life when you trust somebody because your heart wants to. As easily as we indulge in impulsive buying, we often make the dart into placing our faith on people. Sometimes we do not trust what is true, but what we want to believe is true. Often judgement and bias become the basis of analysing what is true versus what I believe is true. The same judgement takes over in retaining your faith on what you believe to be true even when circumstances indicate otherwise. But does this assure an absence of doubt? Not always. The situations that crop up to challenge your faith may lose the battle to your will to retain your faith, but it nevertheless leaves traces of doubt. Doubts on your better judgement. Doubts about your faith. And doubts about everything you believed to be true.

Moving on

Moving on. Something I believed I am very incapable of doing. All those frowns, the anger, the harsh words... All of them concealed the inevitable pain and hurt I thought I could never get over. And that (least convincing) smile- one that's to tell the world 'I am fine. Life has never been better.' When everything seemed hard to accept and none around I wanted to reveal my emotional chaos to, I succumbed to my cocoon, killing time brooding over the 'reason'. Unable to come up with convincing reasons (or more so, not wanting to discover something that could shatter my idea of 'Everything was so perfect, I din't see this coming') I cherished the hopes of 'Everything would be fine. It's just a phase'. Did it help? The frown stayed (grew worse and froze my facial muscles), the heart continued to grieve and the mind stayed confused.

So, with a strange guilt of betrayal (though I did not want any of this to happen the way it did) I decided to move on. Leave the past behind, and lock up all memories that pronounce me guilty of letting go so soon for reasons still unknown, unexplained.

It's not easy, I knew. But it's not impossible, I realised. Today, I am not over it. But I have come to terms with my loss. My heart still grieves over it. However, how can one hate the best times of one's life? The heart grieves so, for it realises the irreplaceable quality of what is lost. And strangely it also smiles in the reminiscence of these times together. I wonder if I have moved forward or retreated to the past and embraced the good memories, recalling them without the bitterness of the eventual loss. Either way, I am smiling again.

Contradicting my own resolutions, I learnt to smile.
To smile on the memories that I had thought I should bury deep down to keep away from surfacing.
To smile on happy times of togetherness, the recollection of which I thought might aggreviate my feeling of lonliness.
To smile on the relationship that was so special it made me whole, and left me void. But gave me the strength to hold on. To believe in beauty. Of life, love and trust.

Moving on, I din't leave it behind. I learnt to embrace it and carry it with me, without guilt and without hurt.