“Life consists of two days, one for you and one against you. So when it’s for you don’t be proud or reckless, and when it’s against you be patient, for both days are test for you.”
-Imam Ali (AS)
There’s a particularly troubling matter in my mind. It’s of no harm physically but mentally, it’s there. Not quite heavy as it used to be but it’s there. Taking up unnecessary time and space, surfacing at the most inconvenient moments to haunt me.
“The truth is, we’re all some kind of haunted. The only difference are the things that haunt us the most. Smells, light, sounds, lovers. A whiff of perfume. An old song. Black and white photographs. They are all pretend ghosts – lying around our deepest selves, just waiting to be revealed again.”
– Rej Jaen, wnq-writers via tumblr
I’ve always wondered how long it takes to heal from missed opportunities. Moments that are not necessarily of external importance. Moments that have passed by while we remained ignorant of their significance. Moments we can never go back in time to retrieve but if we could only redo them.
In some ways, we do relive them. Over and over again inside our minds. Even when we don’t want to. We know they’re only hindering the process of letting go. I wish, there was a switch somewhere to stop unsolicited day-dreaming. One moment you look out the window and the next thing you know, the mind has dived into an ocean of sorrow. Reliving the lost moments and dreaming of what could’ve been.
I, for one, rely upon time. Day by day, nothing lessens. We find ourselves thinking, is this how it’s going to be? But with time, as expected, the intensity of it all declines. We soon notice that while the thoughts come and go, there’s a certain distance shielding us from their effects indicating the healing has begun.
And while we can’t piece together what never really happened, the fantasy that things would’ve turned out better if our actions during that moment were different starts losing its impact. There’s a strange settling feeling of acceptance alongside a period of grief knowing things have passed us by for good.
What’s coming is better for us than what has left.
It’s not the endings that will haunt you
But the space where they should lie,
The things that simply faded
Without one final wave goodbye.
Like a book with torn out pages,
Forgetting things you’re sure you knew,
A question with no answer
And a song stopped halfway through.
So when your mind attempts to store them
Their crooked shape will never fit,
And forever in the corners
Of your consciousness they sit.
Jagged edges made from moments
You can’t be quite sure were the last,
Slicing open thoughts that healed
As they attempt to slip right past.
You see, not knowing is what haunts you,
The memories that never mend,
For they are puzzle’s missing pieces
Of all the things that didn’t end.
– e.h., musings of a poetic soul via facebook