Silver Lining

Everyone has friends. Some may have many, some may have little, some would have what you’d call “fakes” but friends who would willingly barge into your house to save you are hard to come by. I always thought myself lucky to have the two best friends in my life. Three of us study different courses, in different universities, at different countries, hence we don’t get to meet up often. Yet, our bond is still as strong as ever thanks to the trustworthy relationship among us. I can go on and on in detail about how great they are, but all in all, I’m grateful for all they did for me when I was going through this heartbreak.

I grew a phobia towards all sorts of meetings and hangouts during my grey phase. My friends were worried but I just did not have enough courage to face them. I didn’t want their image of me to change because of how I acted. I didn’t like the idea of me crying in front of them. I wanted them to keep this bubbly image of mealways happy and optimistic. I rejected all of their invitations with excuses like ‘I’m busy’ or ‘I’m tired’. Day after day, these excuses piled up in my chat box together with feelings of guilt. I thought maybe they would give up and go on with their lives. Instead, what I got was them unexpectedly barging into my house.

“Hey, I made pancakes. I’ll come over and give you some.”

A message popped up in my notifications. 10 minutes later, they were standing outside my gate waving a small blue container filled with pancakes- some of them half-burnt. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised by their sudden visit. It was kind of uncomfortable even, to have to walk out of my room in a sudden but it did put a smile on my face.

“It tastes better with honey,” she said, pointing at the container in my hands. “Make sure you eat it fresh!!” I left it on the dining table after she left. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely in the mood for pancakes. I managed to have a little piece and although it tasted a little bland, I felt warmth- something that I thought was long gone.

That piece of pancake was the light into my dark room.1 They guided me out of the room and welcomed me with warmth and smiles. To my friends, thank you. Thank you for bringing me out, thank you for staying close the whole time and thank you for not giving up on me. I will never be able to express how thankful I am to have you two as my friends.

1. It was that pancake that became a sweet excuse for them to barge into my house without warning. If they came without the pancake, I would probably have not gone out of my room.

That piece of pancake was the light into my dark room

Along with the wind

After my breakup, I realized that I was noticing the sky more often than usual. My attention no longer lingered on a single face as the vast blue skies broadened my horizons. I personally have always loved sunsets. It lasts only a few hours, the most magical moment in a day where the skies are tainted with a golden yellow hue, sometimes with a tinge of dark orange or even pink. “Today’s sunset will never come again” was what I would think to myself ever since I started paying attention to every sunset. And as I admire the scenery, I feel regret burning deep down within me. I regretted not taking more notice on sunsets previously, lamented the fact that I might have missed some of the most beautiful sunsets without even realizing.

One time in my aunt’s house, I sat and watched as the yellow glow of the sun slowly meld together with the dark blue sky. The soft light seeped through the living room window and shined on my skin. It was a beautiful scene, almost too beautiful to be real, until it started to rain. The sudden downpour surprised me, yet I was fascinated by it. Watching the water stream down the roof against

the yellow sky, it came to me that things work like a downpour. Even for sunsets. It comes and goes without a warning, and once it’s gone, all that is left is the past. Was I really regretting the things I’ve missed out during my relationship? No. I regretted the small things that I took for granted. A simple hour together, a car ride, a meal, bit by bit pieced into the precious memory that we share. A healed wound might not hurt anymore, but the scar stays. A relationship as fragile as a vase, once broken, mend the cracks all you want but we know it will not be the same as it was before. I knew clearly that even if we do get back together someday, things would be different. Yet I can’t deny the me that is still grasping onto the hopes of seeing that sunset again. I know it’s a foolish dream. I know it better than anybody else. Reality is cold and imagination comforts us with sweet dreams and warm pillows.

I saw you cry for the first time that day. You told me you have not cried in years and the very sight of you crying right in front of me shattered my heart. You were lost too. You were afraid. You took the step out first to put blame on yourself so it would hurt me less but my heart aches even more watching you carry the weight on your shoulders. Until today, the words you said to me still rings clear in my ears- the promise we made together. “I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t wait for me, I won’t wait for you too.”

“I can’t guarantee you that I will be here forever.”

“And I can’t bear the sight of you waiting for me like this forever.”

“You deserve someone better out there, someone who will truly give you happiness.”

“So, please set sail and find the love you truly deserve.”

N o t b e c a u s e I c o u l d n ’ t b u i l d a b o a t , b u t

If I were in a game right now, I would say I’m in a survival game alone at a no man’s island. My ultimate task would be to build a boat and set sail into the vast sea. I could choose to stay on this island forever, but the resources are limited and I can’t survive forever on my own. Of course, this is just a metaphor and nope I’m not trying to be Bear Grylls. But let’s just say i’m in the game, I would probably still be stuck at the island. Not because I couldn’t build a boat, but my fear of the waves. I would be constantly worrying about the waves crashing my boat. What if I ended up on another random island and have to start all over again? The chances of that possibility scares me. Even if the calculated risks were close to zero, I would still immediately abandon the very thought of leaving the island.