My meet with N, the time we spent together in a complete different place, perhaps, was nameless. Without any label. And maybe, I truly hope, maybe, the very anonymity of it was what I needed to occupy the meantime. The meantime when there were huge possibilities of me doing the unnecessary and getting myself stuck in yet another mess.
There lay gladness in me initially. Gladness of knowing I'm still capable enough to be flexible and let things happen as they do, take life as it comes. To accept the unacceptable and rearrange the could-have-been-broken parts. To deny the guilt and hatred and define change in a new way. It was a little hard to know the gladness lay somewhere inside due to the presence of confusion, numbness and a tiny bit of disappointment, since I'm a human, regarding some things.
I remember I'd intentionally kept myself distant from some things and wondered later if I was keeping it real, knowing that I wasn't. The state I've come to be in now is more or less similar. I'm distant, yes, but from the past. I've let go. I'm still letting go. Of oldness, of labelled people and moments. I'm letting go of all those so much that I'll someday be empty. I, perhaps, already am. So empty that there's enough space for some more emptiness.
But who cares? Who cares, as long as I'm happy. As long as I wake up and see the life around me as beautifully as I can..