End of An Era

It finally came to an end. All the relatives had gone back to the familiar routines at their respective homes, all the friends had gone back, albeit a bit grudgingly, to the different cities they'd flown down from. The house was filled with flowers and an alarming amount of sweets, a bit too much for its 3 inhabitants. The years of waiting, the months of preparations, the countless arguments over the seemingly trifle details had all paid off.

After finishing the pending works, Mom, Dad and I sat down in the living room. It was eerily quiet after a fortnight of non-stop activity; it seemed off somehow. Exhaustion was finally catching up and my parents resigned to rest, for a week as I would find out later. And I, tired like I've never been before, couldn't get to go upstairs where the bedrooms were. There was a horrible feeling of a void so big and permanent it made me numb as it struck me with all its force.

I was not going to be alone. I had my parents. But I wouldn't have someone to wake up in the nights for a mid-night snack, or to have idle chitchat with, someone who I could share a wardrobe with, someone who apart from me would leave an annoying mess in my bedroom, who I could snuggle next to when reminded of a scary ghost story (*embarrassed*), whose opinion was always asked for when confronted with the decisions of attire, food, outings, makeup, shoes etc. So in a way, a major way, I was going to be alone, much more than I realised.

I realize now how big a part my sister played in my life. Twenty three years of living together and one day she decides to get married and leave- I claimed to be the happiest with this development during our fights, when the sentimental sister phase (which are VERY rare) I'd bawl like a baby. But nothing prepared me for what I'd feel when the truth of it actually hit, when I was sitting in the living room of my house alone, too distraught to go to our rooms upstairs which were (much to the distress of my mom) left as they had been the previous day, the day before the wedding, when we had one last crazy night with friends and the bride-to-be.

I had to learn to live without my sister. Sounds simple, I bet most of you'll might even find it amusing or ridiculous. I wish I could too. It isn't like we didn't have our share of fights, some of them really ugly, there were times when we hated each other vehemently, there were times when we both wished, in the heat of the moment, we could be the only daughter, but these couldn't last long enough to change how we really feel. I love my sister, warts and all, and that's all there is to it. (I might deny this and give a very sophisticated and calm lecture, in my true style, when I'm mad at her again).

So here I was, with a heavy heart, a messy bedroom and my sisters entire wardrobe as mine (Yay?).

To be continued...


Picture: Scribbled on my S-memo and uploaded via Lightbox.

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

- Edgar Allan Poe

Another favourite of mine, this poem speaks of sorrow, rejection, the feeling of being marked an outcast,  but also of courage, of the truth that beauty is still prevalent and there's much more to an individual than what meets the eye. Different people have a different way of interpreting this poem of Poe, which was a clear reflection of what he had gone through. A troubled childhood, being a 'misfit', reaching out to hope and happiness but constantly being surrounded by a 'demon'.

There are times when you know the world is not entirely a bad place,  you see, you feel, you know that there is hope, but then there is always some reason to feel not good enough. There's always something negating it. You always find something that stops you from experiencing for yourself the happiness that surrounds you, and you are all but trapped by this constant demon taking various forms at every turn of the road. The knowing that it's just better to be alone than to have others subjected to your  misery..and have them abandon you eventually anyway.

This poem is about existing on a different wavelength, and loneliness as the consequence. But then again being different doesn't necessarily mean being depressed always. For there is still that one force that binds us all.  Instead of giving way to the external influence, holding on to your beliefs and passions. It's also about finding inspiration. Being proud and finding beauty. Truly being able to see everything for what it is. Changing your perspective. Also being mindful, whether you're on the path of light or dark, keeping sure that it is YOUR path that you choose. Being mindful because you may never find someone like you that you can compare your life to. You can never know for sure if your actions and feelings are good or bad for that reason, you can only question yourself and move on.

Be alone. Be yourself. Have no regrets.