Friday, May 14, 2010

Caterpillars

You keep telling yourself change is good, change is healthy. You are the butterfly everyone wants you to be, except you. The irony is that flying is the only thing that keeps you from moving. From one flower to the next, from one garden to another. The thrill is exhausting, verging on mundane. And the moment it starts to get complicated, you fly. No surprises there.

The caterpillar in you had it easy because it didn't know any better. But now you're stuck with the butterfly and there is nothing you can really do about that. Long gone is the caterpillar. And no, pouting doesn't help. I really wish it did though. Change is messy. It leaves you craving for less.

As a caterpillar, you used to be envious of all the butterflies; beautiful colourful creatures flying high up in the sky. The roles are now reversed, and yet, despite the sudden change in form, you are still jealous. Telling yourself that change is good and healthy, even if change is what messed you up in the first place, is pure insanity. The concept of change just became one huge overstatement, and if you don't stop doing it, you might just ruin the caterpillar leftover pieces you still had in you for good. And you don't want that, believe me.

Now go. Fly fly away.

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Waiting Room

I remember her asking me to smile. I remember her walking down that long long corridor with a stranger, looking back with tears in her eyes. And then she was gone. I remember seeing her heartbreaking look and his petrified eyes. And then I remember the excruciating pain in my chest, so unusual, so unbearable. I remember, and the only thing I want to do is forget.

I want to forget the minutes that seemed like hours, the pauses, the sobs, and the worries. I want to forget every fucked up thought that went through my head. Go. Go away. I want to forget how he left us behind, perplexed, not knowing what the hell was going on. I want to forget, and the only thing I keep on doing is remember.

And then I saw balloons and cards and little angels, forcedly accompanied by her heartwarming smiles. She's back, I thought. My little sister's back! My angel and my friend, the only voice of sanity in a world now glad.

Living it and remembering it make it more emotionally overwhelming, and if I could just go back and erase every painful memory, I would. The bitter sweetness of it all, however, is that that day might have changed her life, our lives, forever; the first day of the rest of her life.

And I just can't wait to see what happens next.