To the 500 Days with You

500 Days of Summer

Now, I am saying goodbye to the great what ifs of yesterday.

I bid farewell to those childlike hopes and dreams — one that seemed to reach the stars and the moon overhead. Perhaps, I am waxing poetic to the fact that once, I realized that I was not as apathetic as I used to be.

With you, I realized that I could be vulnerable because I allowed you to strip me open of my innate thoughts, of my fears, of my simple joys and happiness, of the shallowness that I often masked with my indifference from others. You see, in a season of my life, I allowed one person — that was you, my dear — to break down the fortress of my sheltered life. I allowed you to see the hurts and pains of my life’s dissatisfaction, the unrelenting inspirations while having meaningful conversations, the passionate way I speak to something that captured my psyche, the song I sing and the poems I write through the rollercoaster of emotions that I hid and carried. You saw a different side of me which, almost, nobody did — the unsuspecting, free-spirited, weird, melodramatic, happy, complicated me.

You’ve seen a part of me that was broken, shielded only by that fact that more than anything else, my soul cried out — and still is — to the Maker of the stars and the heavenly I gazed at every night (except when it was too cloudy or when it rained).

You see, a life with you then was a life filled of inspirations, of unexpected surprises, of dreams untold, of love, of expectations waiting to be turned to reality.

That is, until reality sank in.

When such distance divided us — the intangible to the tangible, the real from the tales, the you and I (or the “us” that was never be) — that was when, in my perspective, colors faded and pains shattered the glass-like dream of us being together.

That is, until reality sank in.

 

I carried your heartinto my heart, but you chose to take yours away, leaving me dancing in the smithereens of such brokenness, of shards of glass flying nowhere in dreamland.

You left me in the tangled daze of confusion, of self-anger, of not believing in the pretend magic that used to be ours…alone. You left me longing for the warmth of hand that used to envelope mine.

You said, “I’m sorry”, but t’was too late.

It was because there was never an us, dear — it was only you; it was only I.

The dream faded; I did, too in the aftermath.

Until, sunshine broke.

A hand lifted me up; strong arms carried me tenderly and a soft whisper encouraged me to let go and to forgive. It was difficult, I must tell you. It was more difficult to say goodbyes to the dreams, to the failed expectations and to the great what ifs of our brief life together.

Yet, I had to because letting you go is the best way to love you, not in my eyes but His. To let you go means I am also allowing you to grow deeper in the love of our Father in Heaven.

It hurts, yes. There are still remnants of pains in my heart from time to time, yet I know that I am freed from my own disappointments and expectations. I hope — and that is my prayer — that your heart will be filled with His love, the way He did in my wandering, hurtful moments.

. . . letting you go is the best way to love you, not in my eyes but His. To let you go means I am also allowing you to grow deeper in the love of our Father in Heaven.

I learned that the best way to love is to forgive, that life continues even if a part of you seems ramshackle and you feel falling in a bottomless pit of despair, that there is always hope to the lost and the broken, to the longing and the forlorn.

I was there, my dear.

Now, I am free again — to write, to dream, to love and to forgive, to give grace and mercy, to run, not in endless circles but in the race set before me, and win. Yes, I lost you; however, I gain redirection and focus to the things, moments and people who also matter.

It’s not just you.

In my lost and brokenness, I realized one thing: there is a greater love which can only fill the expanse of my heart’s vacuum. It’s a Love Who came down from Heavens and died for my freedom’s sake.

Now, I dance in such freedom and in the second chance of life. .  .

Today, I bid farewell to the lost girl and welcome a new me: the Creator’s adored princess, God’s chosen — redeemed and brought from death into life.

Until we meet again, my dear . . .

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