Lately I’ve taken to rereading The Summer Break Series before going to bed – this 2, 3AM bedtime hours is really unleashing my sentimental self out in full force. Coupled with my current Stress-Mode Self, suffice to say, I reminiscent at the unlikeliest memories as I sit in the dark during these Godly hours. Ordinary as the place is and sappy as hell that I sound right now, this summer… it was really magical – so good it hurts.
The bright sunny skies, the lazy days, the nice people … Sometimes I think I look back at this period because nothing comes round twice in the same shape and form. My gut feeling tells me that between Miri and myself, no matter my happiness, we were merely each other’s summer flings. My heart, it aches at that fact but I cannot and will not deny its truth. As I progress forward with the submission of another graduate school application – this time around it is the Dream School, the Always Has Been Dream School – the truth hits me square in the heart: already, I have made my decision.
The outcome of this application – entrance or rejection; at this point in time, they matter less against what they symbolize.
When I said my goodbyes during my last few days, I remember wanting so badly to do them properly. Everyone thought me mostly overly corny and emotional for doing what I did as I bid goodbyes; the thank you cards and such. But that’s the thing, that’s exactly it. My gut feeling, even then, perhaps I knew it myself that the chances of my returning there are slim; not impossible, but unlikely. The thing is, to another, I am being a romantic yet again where my sentiments are concerned – once more, as usual, I paint such rosy pictures of my feelings and such towards a particular place, much as I have done in the past with persons and memories.
But this one’s different.
After Miri, I am… no longer the same person. Not fundamentally, not in essence.
My principles, reflections, core self – aspects I’d repeated over and over to be unflinching and unbending, they gave in to the observations, emotions and experiences that washed over myself. My beliefs, they were challenged. City girl’s worries and trivialities, against real people and their real struggles, how could I forget? How could I not be moved, challenged and torn apart? How could I possibly still stay the same, seeker that I am?
I am aware that very likely, to most people this place is most ordinary and I am making a mountain out of a mole. How do I explain? I see no need to defend my sentiments – I knew what and how much my 10-week there gutted me and that’s enough.
I think I am mourning, to a certain degree. I am mourning for a place, time and space which were magical and soul-changing; so beautiful and poignant the take home lessons that sometimes the lines between dream and reality blurred. I was so happy then and at that time, it was all that mattered.
I think I am mourning because I realize, with gravity and mixed emotions, that it is a conscious decision on my part to not return. When it is a choice one actively makes, it means one must be held accountable for it and whatever takes place, or not, in the after. It means the decision was made completely through one’s own free will – aside from God’s will – and therefore, one must live and honor the decision made.
There is responsibility in having choices and it’s more heavily weighted when it is placed against another who has none.
Life has a funny way of sneaking up on a person so my words don’t quite hold, I’m aware. My gut feeling however, it senses that yes, things don’t come round twice in the same shape and form. My heart, it realizes this too: already, I have made my decision.
I miss Miri tonight, as I have been for the past few days.