Hand to Hold

My breathing is uneven and I am gasping for oxygen. I held unto something hoping it could be sturdy enough to support my almost lifeless self.

I am having nightmares again.

And I am fully aware of it.


My hand, all sweaty and done for, tried to gather all of its remaining strength to hoist myself up from falling the towering structure. I am definitely in the brink of giving up when suddenly another hand hold me up on the opposite end. That person tried to encourage me;

"I will not let you go."

"Believe in me."

"Trust me."

"Have faith in me."

"I will NEVER let go."

'Oh such sweet words,' I muttered to myself.

So I held tighter, timidly anticipating the worst but trusting otherwise. I began to feel that he had loosened a bit of my hand. As if he was weary himself. He couldn't be.

He promised.

'Don't let go of me,' I demanded under my breath, fearing my close encounter with death.

'I don't know anymore,' those were his words piercing my heart.

'What?' I asked mournfully at his change of mind.

'I'm not sure' he said. 'I think it's not worth it anymore.'

Then he let go of my hands.


I felt my feet jerked up from my bed.

I woke up.

Crying.

Definitely a nigthmare.

I felt numb as I stained my sheets with tears. It was a perfectly wonderful evening as the fat yellow moon sat by the branches. I was tossing and turning in my bed trying to kick out the horrible feeling to put myself back to sleep. There were a thousand emotions swirling my sluggish mind.

Endings are hard. I took it pretty battered up and staggered. Everyone has their own way to deal with this pain differently. As for me, it took me longer to absorb the changes and begin again.

We have no other means but broke it off via the internet. I want to imagine that our conversation wasn't forced. I let myself believe that it is a mutual understanding of detachment. More of his side than mine,still with my consent.

Endings are a part of life. It is one of life's never ending cycles. Good and bad, weeping and laughter, to love and to hate, birth and death. That's why we have transitions in life like graduations, weddings and funerals.

My turning point was pretty devastating.

Still it taught me a few things. First is that endings are actually necessary. Some good things just have to end. Like long bubble baths, or a fascinating book, an interesting movie, a weekend getaway, or even a two year relationship with a great guy. As much as I never wanted it to end I know it will get me nowhere if I continue on. In the long run, it will just hurt more.

So I tried to see beauty from pain.

I marvel at the exquisite beauty of roses. In order to create perfection beyond our imaginations, it has to be pruned to grow back healthier leaves. Sometimes things (or people for that matter) need to be cut off from our lives so we can heal and blossom. It doesn't mean that he is not an amazing guy because he is. He was just not the best choice, God's choice. Even if I persisted, cried, and growled, I know deep in my heart that it was not him. God has a different plan in mind.

I know even if endings come to life God will not leave me in a place of despair. Bleary-eyed, I look up and smile as it begins to settle in my heart that God really is in control. He knows what He's doing.

And I trust Him.

Then just one night, the bad dreams started to disappear. Another hand holding me, hugging me even. It was firmer, gentler, it was a hand more secure than the first.

I am holding God's hand.



P.S
>.< I wouldn't want to offend anyone. Sorry if I did. I'm not actually sorry, sorry. Still... I am crossing my fingers to continue expressing like this. I have never felt more alive my entire life. I know I had given up a long time ago with my writing crap but give me chance. Just one more time. I'll try hard to write lame honest feelings. You are free to comment here. Yup, even as anon (I'm scared of anon!) if you want me to shut up.