Memories

13th August, 2012

I’m quite sure that I am becoming a cynical pessimist with every passing day. I used to believe in rainbows and sunshine, in promises and trust. I used to believe that everyone had a good side, and that we should focus on the good in people so that it encourages them to bring out the good in them. I used to believe in humanity but life has taught me otherwise. My little bubble of naivety burst open and took away all of my optimism and peace of mind. I witnessed the darker side of people. I saw their ugly faces hidden behind masks of friendliness and congenial attitudes. And it broke me. It shattered me because it shattered my faith. It cracked my expectation of high standards of morality that I had believed that very person followed. It was all that I had ever believed in. So when my unshakable faith in humans finally dissolved, it took me away with it.

Maybe I’m lying. Maybe I’m not being honest with myself. For somewhere deep down inside me I still believe there is some goodness left in people, some humanity. Not everyone is the same. Not everyone could be bad. Maybe I have surrounded myself with the wrong people. Maybe I just need to find the right ones. Maybe there is still hope.

This “hope” is what prevents me from letting go of my past self completely. They say transitions are always painful. And I do realize that I am in one. Neither a pessimist that seems to be my future nor an optimist that was my past. And a realist I never was. I am neither half nor whole. I feel lost.

Survived

Where once she had been restless she had begun to find peace again. Although those panicking attacks of restlessness had not yet completely subsided the dissatisfaction that had accompanied it had faded away. Where once everything beautiful had lost its charm she had finally began to appreciate it again. Where once in her lonesome moments an unhappy expression had clouded her face that had later turned to a blank emptiness, she now smiled while looking out of her cars windows, marveling at those little things to which she had seldom paid any significant attention before. How magnificent did her city look bathing in the glory of the golden light of these winters’ setting sun! How mesmerizing the sky looked in all its different colors, from pale blue specked with white fluffy clouds to the dark grey that tinted with pink that followed rain. Even rain itself, to which she had been impartial for as long as she could remember, being the hopeless romantic that she was, had somehow lost its pull on her. She had rather wanted to never see it again. But now that charm, that magnetism, that innocent happiness of seeing trees bathing, people hustling around and that sweet earthy fragrance of wet grass in rain had begun to incite her again, reminding her of what she once used to be. That simple innocent part of her that had always been attracted to life, to people, to nature, to colors, sunshine, butterflies and rainbows and to all those sweet little blessings that she had always felt very lucky to have had begun to call her back again. It had taken a long, long time to come back from that gaping dark pitch of emptiness but she had done it. She had survived!