There are certain memories that are definitely much, much clearer than some. Some which I can even remember most of the details. Some just seem so distant. I wonder if it's because I choose to do so or not.
Like I certainly can't remember how my life was when I had only 1 child even if that was just 7 years ago. Even if I only had 2 children 3 years ago. Right now I am shaking my head and smiling, feeling funny that I can't remember those days. What I do remember clearly is the feeling I had shortly after giving birth to my second. I felt very, very restless. I had gone back to work and had been feeling this rumbling inside of me which kept me sitting still. It bothered me. I felt so much pressure to keep myself intact, to keep the whole show together, to please everyone around me. I wanted to just bury my head, clog my ears with water so that I couldn't hear what everyone around me was saying, drink till I was totally wasted so that I wouldn't remember what yesterday was all about.
Those were lousy days.
I sit and stare out of the window now. Trying to contemplate on my life as it is now. There is a certain calm inspite of the little worries and anxious feelings that bother me every once in a while. I shrug my shoulders and shake my head. I wonder.
There is no need to want to be perfect. For those who take notice of and highlight the negative, too bad. For those who choose to look at the brighter side of things and appreciate them, thank you.
There is a greater need to realize that one can only do so much. There is no sense in pushing a wall you know you can never move -- it's a waste of time. So then I wonder if not pushing the wall is enough in the first place. I guess in time, one gets to realize that it is better to remain still than to keep going somewhere without any direction in mind.
I search my heart. I dig deep. I still shrug and shake my head leaving myself wondering what's next. I'll probably never get those answers. Maybe not now, maybe not yet or maybe not at all.
I am craving for love. But I remind myself that it is better to love than be loved. There is someone I miss. Mom? Dad? A friend? I am glad there is no more fear. Just a blank feeling. Wishing it would leave.