Some of my friends think that I should move on.
Some of my family worry that I’m clinging to the past.
My doctor suggests that I might be making it harder for myself; my counsellor imagines me with a career, a husband and two kids, and thinks I shouldn’t waste another moment; my head is sick to death of the whole subject –
But I am not ready to let it go, just yet.
17 years is a long time, and I am not prepared to walk away from more than half my life without taking a little something back or, at least, giving the whole experience a damn good reason.
So, before I go on to the career and husband and kids, and turn my back on it all, I need to make sure that the aftertaste isn’t so bitter and that there is something positive to come out of all this pain. And, in order to achieve a little closure, as I say goodbye, I need to make sense of the experience a little, and unravel the causes and contributors and genes and science so I can, at least, start to understand -
Because at the moment, the thought that it was all meaningless is too painful to consider –
And, for the time being, I need to salvage whatever I can, otherwise most of my life has gone to waste.
So I understand the concern, and I agree that I’m clinging onto the past, and I’ll admit, a little sheepishly, that I am not quite brave enough to cut the apron strings completely; but I also need to take a little something back (after it stole so very much) –
And make it make a little sense (otherwise it’s all been for nothing) –
And see if I can stop somebody else –
Because 17 years is a long time, and there’s a reason I’m still here.
Tags: letting Go