“So, this is it, then?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure about this?”
‘I have to be.”
“You know, you won’t be able to undo this later, right?”
“I know.”
“I don’t understand. But I will leave you to it. I don’t
really have the courage to argue with you anymore.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Is that all you have to say?”
....
“Yes.”
“I never expected this from you.”
“I’m really very sorry, Emm.”
..
“Goodbye, Emm.”
....
And somewhere in between, our coffee went cold and the cake
stale. That was the last we ever met. The last time we ever saw each other. The
last time we ever talked. Two years ago.
Somewhere in a different world.
....
These past two years have changed me in ways I couldn’t
have dared to imagine. And to be honest, they’ve changed everything that
defines me. That defined me.
Now, the tables have turned. The sides have switched.
And the cutlery still hasn’t uttered a single syllable. The
delicate china seems still as always and our silence, louder than ever.
Sometimes, I take this stillness as their approval and the
others, as my illusion.
I don’t know what to believe anymore. Which side is
heavier? Where are the weights? And where am I?
What side am I on?
Am I a grace to this side, or a disgrace to the other?
Am I the one fighting a lost battle with a broken shield
and a blunt knife?
Or am I too broken to even fight?
...
We all come with our own baggage. Filled with pieces of us,
intricately picked out by time and carved with passion. Sometimes, we define
our baggage. And sometimes, it defines
us.
Sometimes, we become it. And the others, it
becomes us.
However, the worst is in knowing that it will be our ruin
and still not being able to fix it. To fix ourselves.
Because, we need fixing, more than we even need ourselves.
...
Two years ago, I made a deal with the devil.
We were the ones at stake and I gambled us away.
This was my baggage. And it ruined us.
They were my demons. And they killed us.
And when the devil came to collect his prize, I let go of
everything I thought was mine.
....
Somewhere in between, as our coffee went cold and the cake
stale, a promise was lost and the colours paled.
And my unspoken goodbye became a luxury, in a castle
devoted to their cynical loyalty!
....
It is time that I bid goodbye to everything that pulls me
down. To everything that I can’t fix. And to everything that breaks me.
This is me, letting go of all the pain and fear that I
held, of all the insecurities that held me down, of all the memories I do not
wish to remember, of all the people that ruined me, of all the days I regret,
of all the mistakes I cannot undo, and of everything that is holding me back.
Goodbye, dear baggage. I do not wish to carry you around
with me anymore.
From today, I will be free.
I will not carry this weight that doesn’t define me
anymore. And I will not live in these constraints, in these walls anymore.
I will define myself, on my own terms. And I will fix
myself. I will heal.
This is me, breaking free.
This is me, starting afresh.
And this is me, not holding back.
I am letting go now.
And I hope you can do the same.
May these tides of time wash away the sands of your pain
and as the sun glows in the horizon, may you find solace in yourself. In your own
being.
Till a new tomorrow,
And maybe, even beyond,
Love,
Emm.
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