I’m innocent, sweet, bubbly, independent, and a man-hater. But never in my twenty-three years of living had I thought of immersing myself in the idea of falling. That’s what they call it – falling. Without expecting, in which we sometimes expect the unexpected – I did fall.
Falling is very liberating. Perhaps I have attached myself too much to the idea that snapping out of it is painful. I even forgot to think that falling is risky – someone should catch you or you’ll fall hard enough. He didn’t catch me. So now I’m enduring the pain. As what my friends would frequently say “Move on”. Those two words would just resonate but I guess it’ll take months for me to finally absorb that. It’s just four months for God’s sake – I think I’ll need more time, more time to heal. 🙂