I stand for the belief that any form of love should feel breezy,
like the cool winds of a calm December morning..
because love isn’t meant to cause torment or any kind of struggle.
And if I fail to reap the wonder and ease it’s supposed to bring,
then it’ll remain as an unfulfilled longing
I’m willing to let go for all eternity.. –January marj 2012
There goes another brief missive that I posted on my FB wall this weekend. These lines naturally came up to me in a span of forty five minutes while at work a couple of days ago, although I do have an idea now what moved me to write this topic. Definitely a few certain some ones who have recently figured on my mind..
You may already know this about me. Saying goodbye sucks. I even get attached to things which make purging my stuff an arduous and agonizing task.
My colleagues have repeatedly advised me against getting attached to anything, or rather anyone. They could sense it. Letting go has always been difficult for a sentimental fool that I am. Why do you think becoming a cold-hearted Juliet is one of my aspirations this year?
Recent events have me pondering why I shouldn’t open myself up so as not to risk becoming vulnerable to any more “unnecessary” pain. As it’s such a sure thing for a heartbreak coming down the pike, don’t you think?
For the times when I’ve read how attachment has become one of the major causes of human suffering, this question has hounded me for the longest period. Is it possible to stay away from circumstances that will have me crying buckets of tears caused by emotional threads I sometimes inadvertently weave?
And so it got me remembering the words written by my all-time favorite role model Helen Gurley Brown, “Why couldn’t you just have enjoyed the headiness of it all without being so federal case out of your brain about the whole thing?
You couldn’t. You never can, and you must never apologize to yourself for the one you’ve given all that passion to. It could only be that way at that special time, and if you cared, you cared..”
Very well said.