morning sickness.
The morning started with a sigh, when neutral dreams morph into a patchwork of truncated memories.
I look to God for salvation and guidance. I pray ernestly for His intervention. An existence such as mine is not to be envied, every second a spasm of misery. My heart and mind is in recovery, and yet it is now that it is most vulnerable.
I feel sick, mentally sick, like a fevered mind, or maladied brains. My heart seems unsettled no matter how I rationalise things. I feel shame, anger, sadness, heart brokeness all rolled in one.
He did promise to forgive me, to lift me from shame.
He did promise to calm my inner storm to quelsh my anger.
He did promise to take my sadness away, and replace it with joy.
He did promise to heal my heart and lift me up once more.
He promised. May I say aloud that "He hath remembered."
Why had I loved another more than Him? Why had I loved one who would forsake me, when He who never will was made in second? If only I had loved him with as much intensity, hurt and pain I will not feel.
Yet He is a kind Father, He seeks me out when I hide from Him, curled up in hurt.
The short exchange with her was poignant yet painful. To hear her speak of her work and play brings back times when it was my duty and joy to share hers. Now it all seem like a hollow play of words, given to a fren out of habit or kindness. I thank Him for her kindness and grace, that in her busyness and stress she still remembers a fren in need. Though I have no right to feel jealousy, I thank Him I had no need to.
Somehow I left the conversation feeling like a jerk.
Somehow, I thot something I said must have hurt her. What could I have said? Or was it all needless sensitivities on my part?
Was it my act if moving on by filling my life with more activities? Was it my little sharing of secrets? Was it the cessation of my pathetic whining? Was it the reaccount of my past weeks?
All these I would never know. Too late, too bad, too distant now to find out.
I asked her for tea like before when school is on again. Difference being though, that once we were lovers, but now we are mere frens.
Bitter tea to drink, yet one that still quenches parched throats better than sugared waters.
Life needs some bits of bitterness so we can move on to appreciate the sweet aftertastes.
I look to God for salvation and guidance. I pray ernestly for His intervention. An existence such as mine is not to be envied, every second a spasm of misery. My heart and mind is in recovery, and yet it is now that it is most vulnerable.
I feel sick, mentally sick, like a fevered mind, or maladied brains. My heart seems unsettled no matter how I rationalise things. I feel shame, anger, sadness, heart brokeness all rolled in one.
He did promise to forgive me, to lift me from shame.
He did promise to calm my inner storm to quelsh my anger.
He did promise to take my sadness away, and replace it with joy.
He did promise to heal my heart and lift me up once more.
He promised. May I say aloud that "He hath remembered."
Why had I loved another more than Him? Why had I loved one who would forsake me, when He who never will was made in second? If only I had loved him with as much intensity, hurt and pain I will not feel.
Yet He is a kind Father, He seeks me out when I hide from Him, curled up in hurt.
The short exchange with her was poignant yet painful. To hear her speak of her work and play brings back times when it was my duty and joy to share hers. Now it all seem like a hollow play of words, given to a fren out of habit or kindness. I thank Him for her kindness and grace, that in her busyness and stress she still remembers a fren in need. Though I have no right to feel jealousy, I thank Him I had no need to.
Somehow I left the conversation feeling like a jerk.
Somehow, I thot something I said must have hurt her. What could I have said? Or was it all needless sensitivities on my part?
Was it my act if moving on by filling my life with more activities? Was it my little sharing of secrets? Was it the cessation of my pathetic whining? Was it the reaccount of my past weeks?
All these I would never know. Too late, too bad, too distant now to find out.
I asked her for tea like before when school is on again. Difference being though, that once we were lovers, but now we are mere frens.
Bitter tea to drink, yet one that still quenches parched throats better than sugared waters.
Life needs some bits of bitterness so we can move on to appreciate the sweet aftertastes.
posted by Zachary Shim | 9:57 am
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