Its Not Over Until The Fat Lady Sings

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My official mourning period is now over. Let’s see what I have accomplished in that time, and what I have failed to overcome.

That decision to leave him hasn’t stopped me from missing him. I know that it could result in me doing some stupid things like flying out to see him. I don’t trust I could be in full control of my faculties if that happens. So I plan one outing after another elsewhere in the next weeks. This avoids having idle weekends in my calendar which may give me that stupid idea. Better be crazy than stupid.

That craziness may result in me replacing my busted set of wheels. As the end of the two weeks loan approaches, I like the 200 car better and better. I think it suits me better that the sleek dream car I had always wanted.

I no longer constantly feel as if someone has just punched me in the stomach and knock the wind out of me. My heart doesn’t ache as much; at least not that unbearable squeeze which leaves me breathless. These still happen from time to time, but not with the same severity.

I’m humming and whistling again. I haven’t yet sung as hearty as I used to, but I know it will come back.

I haven’t seen him again since the break-up, not yet. I do not rule it out. We speak on the phone a couple of times. Sometimes emotional, other times sober and laughing. But it still hurts each time.

He just doesn’t seem to understand the grief caused to me. I must stop trying to make him understand. I must stop expecting that he would ever apologise.

Apologies or not, I have ruled out renewing romance with him. That’s what the sane mind tells me, but who is to know what Allah has written in my book.

I have lost weight. While I was shocked to find my waist shrunk two notches on my belt, this is nothing new. I got sick every couple of years and lose that weight anyway. Since I have been healthy for a while, this episode compensates in the gain/loss cycle.

I still believe that he loves me. I still love him. When there is so much war and hatred in the world, I think what we have is still beautiful, imperfect as it is.

I have no regrets. There will always be others who make impact in our lives; some make life difficult and unbearable, yet others who help keep our faith and see the beauty in mankind. I can’t stop people doing what they do because they have their motivation, just as much as I have my own. The only thing that makes sense is to take responsibility for how I respond to them.

I hope not to be afraid to love again. As they say, better to love and lost rather than not love at all. As long as the fat lady hasn’t sung, I shall continue to love.
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