Here Iam, back at a coffee shop, sitting alone writing. At this rate, I don't think this habit will ever grow old on me. I do wonder if there's ever a point in my life, that I let someone else join me.
That's actually a question I address for 2021. What will it bring to the table? What's the trick under the sleeves? I hope the latest technology will be able to tell me at least the tip of it, but after 2020 happening, I guess human race now realize that plot twist is real. And we should be very thoughtful on what we do next, cause there's no guarantee there will be "next time" for us.
For me, 2020 is a wake up call and a slap in the face, and light sleeps at night dreaming about somebody who will hold me thight when I cry and weep and complain about my incapability, how my head is sometimes a riddle for me, those worries and anxieties I can't quite express through word, but the pain is very real banging in my chest. This year has been my biggest break, when I learn to be really patience about myself, understanding that what I think as set backs might just a resting point before continuing my journey. I'm trying my very best not to be mad at myself that the Jengga I built crumbled earlier this year. I'm trying my hard to get out of the ruin that becomes more and more like a cemetery with only names in my mind, I can't quite recall the face. No one will be able to go on living if she keeps wondering around the death. Even though letting go is more likely a concept for me, maybe with practice I can finally grasp a grip about that.
I humbly think that I won't survive this year without my support system. There's moment when I was so close on pulling the trigger, but I didn't, that mostly because I still had so many reasons for staying and making it works. And everytime I find my way to come back to those reasons, I feel truly saved. So I do want to call a toast for my friends, who's been listening to the crack in my voice when I'm mad, who's been leaving me alone when I need to gather my thought and casually remind me if lunch time is coming. I want to call a toast for my current boss, for giving me hope and courage to start believing again. I want to call toast for my brother and sister, for the late night drive and difficult conversation, for baring almost everything on the table just so we can understand each others languange better, for grilling my chicken tenderly the way I like it, for provoking my rage and deepest fear to later nurse my exploading pulse into a harmony. Without one of them, I'm scared to think where I'll end up. And with every single one of them, I feel like I can also understand myself better.
I'm virtually popping a Chianti and rise my glass for them.
