Split

I really didn’t want to put heavy, sad-ish posts so close together because if nothing else, it comes off rather depressing and gloomy.

Hallo little world. Bet you thought I forgot all about you.

So, yes, I haven’t really written much this month. I’ve been finding it difficult to write and that’s mostly because I’m a little bit split… like split up in myself.

I’m just not exactly one with myself. And…well,  if I can’t gather myself together, I have no voice, at least, not one worth writing about.

Technically, I don’t suppose we are always ever one with ourselves. I’d put myself down to be at least split down the middle, in two, at any one point of time in my life. That’s why I’m so scattered of late, because I’m not even two. I feel like I’ve been split up to at least three. I don’t like it. For one, it really affects my “how I should think”, my voice and consequently my writing. And I do like to know where I stand, what my opinion is and how as a person, I have reacted or should react.

Maybe a little context: I got hurt of late by someone I love. And it kind of shattered me a bit. It’s like someone threw a rock in the mirror and the glass cracked and split at the point of impact. I feel like that piece of glass, fractured and split up, trying to pick up the pieces as best I can, but still reverberating from its impact.

It was really bad the couple of days after it happened. I just felt so sick in my soul. When I didn’t have anything on hand to do, to distract me, it got worse because my whole mind was steeped in it. It didn’t really go away, even when I was occupied. It just settled into a sort of greyish backdrop in my head. And when I did think about it, it pained me. There were times when I almost feel that I had swallowed a stone whole and it’s stuck in my throat, weighing on my chest. And I actually did get to understand the literal meaning of having a ‘heavy heart’ because that’s what I felt like, like my heart’s filled with lead, sinking and then bobbing, trying to stay afloat with life. I just felt faint in my soul. I could almost see my weak, pale, doddering self doing nothing but huddling feverishly in bed when of course, in real life, I’m just there, text in hand, trying to read the homework through the tears. I don’t feel it now though, as I type. I’m just recalling all this in an almost scientific way. I am better now (thanks for asking hoho) and I want to write all this down now that I feel like I’m a little gathered back up.

I don’t know why I’ve never felt this split before. Perhaps, if I did, it was because it must have been a long time ago. But I’ve never felt this split up. Hmm, maybe a little insight on what actually goes on in my head just to put it out there (and yes I’m naming my voices with colours because voices A, B and C don’t cut it):

White: Ok guys, we gotta forgive her. Like, you just posted a post on forgiveness and you technically apologised on her behalf. Besides, think of all the crap you did, we did, and the forgiveness we get from God. ‘Forgive us as we forgive others’ right? It’d just be douchey to not forgive and get forgiveness.

Red: Yeah ok, I get that we gotta forgive, and I think it’s good and right and we will get round to it…but I’m still raging man! I’m so angry, like…how could she say such a thing?? How can she even say that??? I’m so hurt and I’m so angry! I almost feel like I don’t want to forgive her! I have a right to be mad, and to be hurt. I have feelings too ok.

Blue: I get that you’re mad and yes, definitely, you got a right to be. But dude, for how long? What I don’t want us to become is to become a mess of self-pity and tears. I bet that whole para we wrote up there on feeling soul sick already have people thinking that we’re seeking attention by trying to look pathetic and victimised. That’s exactly what we don’t want. We gotta snap out of it.

Red: I know we gotta and I know I will. But not now man. I need my time. I don’t care what other people think. The hurt is real and I want to finish hurting instead of trying to gloss it over and move on quickly without any actual healing.

White: I completely agree that you should grieve and all. Take time to mourn, and move on afterwards.

Blue: But how long is that going to take? I don’t want us to be a burden to other people, to be sad and mopey and down our friends. I have no tolerance for self-pity, you know that.

Red: Well, I’m wallowing in it. Because I don’t think it’s self-pity even if it looks it. I’ve been hurt. Let me hurt.

White: Do you even want to be healed?

Red: Maybe I don’t.

Blue: I don’t like it that you don’t. I want to be healed.

Red: Harder than you think.

And maybe, a little while later, when Red’s more cooled down and I really try to take that first step, to be the one that messages her:

White: Guys, you know we gotta do this. We can’t just leave it hanging. We have work to do. We have to be ready for the work. We’ll text her ok? Just to start somewhere. Let’s be big about this.

Red: Ok.

Blue: Ok.

I pick up the phone and open up our conversation. The last few lines of our previous conversation show up and a part of me chickens out:

Red: Wait.

Blue: What?

Red: *breathes deeply* I can’t.

White: Why?

Red: Because she’s going to hurt us again! I can feel it! She’s at this point in her life where everything we say will be inconsequential or wrong because we’re just the spectator who won’t understand what she’s going through. Nothing will help and we’ll only be exasperated with her after! She’ll have a million awful things to say. *shudders*

Blue: I actually agree with this. I never know what to say to a person who doesn’t want to be helped. Although I do understand the part where we won’t get it, not in her shoes and all. And that’s who I don’t want to become, someone whom a friend doesn’t know how to comfort.

White: C’mon, guys. She never said that bit about us being spectators. It’s just our paranoia, our own fear of getting hurt.

Red: Am I wrong to want to avoid getting hurt? To protect myself?

White: No, but if we’re called to reach out even at the expense of being hurt, knowing that we very well might be, would you?

Red: I don’t want to.

Blue: I want us to want to.

White: We have a Friend guys. We know the dude who will heal our hurts, comfort us in sadness, fill us when we’re empty and strengthen us when we’re weak. This world will always hurt us. But He promises that it’ll be worth it, and He gives us a way to stand up under it. At the end of the day, we gotta ask ourselves if we love ourselves more than we love Him, if we want to protect ourselves from hurt over doing what He wants. It can’t be both.

Red: …

Blue: … I think we know.

White: Then we prove it.

I messaged her, and when she replied I pondered long and hard to answer her as tactfully and as helpfully as I can, as a friend. Even though I don’t know if we still are now. All I know is that while I love her, because I love her, I was angry and I was hurt. I kept it a short convo about life in general, and we didn’t touch anything we previously did. And I wonder about her a lot.

I wonder if I could have done something, anything, differently such that it didn’t have to come to this. I wonder if God had picked wrongly in placing me where she was but then I don’t think He would have picked wrongly, not because of my abilities or anything like that, but because He knows all and He loves my friend too, too much to have risked her growth by picking me.

It was also at this low point that several people whom I confided in encouraged and supported me and for anyone who was this low, the support I received was nothing short of what I needed. They reminded me that I had done my best for Him, and that this was also a growing experience for me and to most importantly, be able to let her go and entrust her to God. I kind of forgot that she was God’s charge, that He loves her more fiercely than I ever did or will so she’s in good hands and I didn’t need to worry. Still, that took a lot of effort, for me to really release it and set it down. Even though it’s not the end of her story, it’s still sad. But I’ll wait like how she’s waiting too.

I also forgot that she wasn’t the only one learning from this friendship. I was too. Although this friendship tired me a lot these past months, I knew I was growing. In that sense, I needed to rely on Him more, and that also assured me that this was not a mistake.

I don’t suppose I can put down who is right and wrong. With relationships, it’s always hard to put it down so. And for the most part, it doesn’t matter because the issue of contention is not usually important. The feelings that come out of is. I don’t pretend to be a good friend. I don’t think I am, compared to all the lovely people who encouraged me. And I have a long way to go.

But you must know, I don’t care what other people think, you must know everything I ever said was not to win an argument with you, to be right or to win. You must know I love you. That’s why I was hurt you thought that that’s just me trying to pull your heartstrings. I don’t do that sort of thing. How could you mistake my time with you as something as low as that? Is that how you see me? Really?

It just strikes me how delicate the balance is: If you care too much about yourself, you don’t have room to care for others. Yet, if you don’t love yourself, you have no love to give.

I hope that one day, you’ll see that.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A word regarding “Adrift”: I’d actually wanted to post an enlightening experience I had when I wrote it but was really too physically tired that night and was up to my neck trying to read The Canterbury Tales. So. It culminated in “Adrift” which was a bit of a lazy short way to put up what was running through my head as I tried in vain to read Canterbury, dreaming of an escape from work. Yes, that is how I sometimes think; not-so mysterious strangers appearing from nowhere to walk me through gardens. IT COULD HAPPEN. Yeaaa, I wrote it more for myself buuuut I hope that you liked it anyway, you, my omniscient reader. Interpret as you will. *winky face*

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