Getting over myself.

I wrote this last weekend:
You know those times when you're in pain and you fiercely wish you have a reason to be furious just to mask the hurting somehow. I bet it's easier that way.

I would like to take it back.

Not because I'm not hurting anymore. Not because I now have a reason to be mad. It's because now that I can see more clearly, I am so grateful that I don't have a reason to be furious. Sure, maybe it is easier to cope that way because you focus all your energy on the bad things and forget the pain. It's something I've seen Dr. House do - you cover up something with something bigger so you'll just feel the bigger thing and forget about the "smaller" one.

Yes, I still find it difficult to sleep and eat. I've thought about getting sleeping pills just so the nights can pass by more quickly. I still cry at the most embarrassing places at the most inopportune times. I am actually thankful now that I work long hours so I don't have to lie in bed wide awake till the wee hours of the morning. I dread the weekends because I don't have anything to keep me occupied. I still don't know what the future holds. Maybe I've already lost the fight even before it began. I really don't know. What I do know is I may be hurting, but I'm still so blessed. The boy I fell in love with so many years ago turned out to be the most wonderful man, who's never given me one single reason to regret what we entered into. All these years, not one single reason. I am still fighting and hoping, but I know in my heart that the worst thing that can happen is he'll turn out to be just a friend. A friend. Not in the near future, of course, but in time, I know we'll be good friends. And if that's what I can call the worst thing in my life, boy, am I truly blessed.