The Last Word.

You want to know if you'll ever feel differently to what you feel right now?

.......

You will be better. You will be happier. But you will never forget how this feels. And you will never understand why you will never forget.

Slowly, the sharp stabbing pain will stop. You will cry less with time. Your pain will grow softer, milder and more forgiving. You will learn to be happy again.

You will learn to keep yourself busy. You will find new people. If you’re lucky you will find better people. You will love many. You will love some better. But you will never love the way you loved before.

If you’re really lucky you will find a much better person to live with. He will love you and take care of you. He will be your friend. You may never have that spark you shared with the one before or the one who came long before he did.

No. He will not be that man. You will not feel giddy when you see him. Your heart will not jump with joy or cry with passion. You will not want to give up everything for him. Dance for his joy. Burn yourself to ashes for his ego.

But you will love him nonetheless. Like a woman loves a man she knows is her duty to. And you will love him better. You will be more careful. Less hasty. More cautious. 

You will learn to love him. You will learn to take joy in his joy and be a part of his sorrow. You will forget most of what happened that cool, breezy night in March. You will forget so much. You will remember a smell you liked so much but forget why you still remember it. You will forget how your eyes would light up when you glimpsed that reflection you really wanted to be a part of. You will forget how you once saw your life to be. You will see your life differently. You will forget all that you had hoped for. You will forget the soft touches, sly smiles and some of the provocative gestures. You will forget being free. You will forget so much. You will forget that happy feeling that can only come from the inside because it is so fresh, so new like twirling around for his eyes so he could see his beauty reflected in you. You will forget to feel innocent. You will forget to feel beautiful.

You will only remember that feeling. It will always be there. That feeling where you feel whole and empty unanimously. Where right and wrong are all in one. Where every time your lover leaves a little of him behind. Something to be remembered for. Where all you have are snippets of memories of words, sensations, smells. The feeling of a lost beggar or a shriveled, senile whore. Like a lost child. Like putting on your ballet shoes for the first time. The exhilaration of arching your legs and twirling on tippy toes round and round with grace and agility.  

And you will learn to move on but this feeling of different sorts will stay around with you.

You will see shades of happiness and sorrows. You will face other tragedies of life. You will see many more joys and opportunities. And you will learn to handle your troubles better and understand your fears more. Some of your fears will subside, some will stay but you will never be able to kill that awful sadness inside you. And at some point in your life, you will be content. You will evaluate your gains and losses logically.  You will think you are happy and you probably have a better life now than what you could have had but there will always be a very small part of you that will always be empty. It will never be enough but certainly better than what most have.

Eventually you will take your vows with a different man. You will have babies and you will teach them to walk. You will tend to your sick husband and occasionally fight with him over added stress and burden of work. But if you’re lucky he will forget. He will be nicer and softer than before. You will dress up for many parties, social gatherings, birthdays, dinners, anniversaries. People will see how beautiful you are. But you will seldom ever see it in yourself. You will learn to nod and smile with curtsy. It will cease to matter. It will never matter. You will know you are a waste of a woman not being able to see your own beauty. And you will wish to live in another’s skin just to live a different life. But choosing our own destinies are a favor we are ill afforded with.

You will grow older and as your children grown older with you, you will wish better for them. You will wish for them not to suffer the way you are destined to. The way your mother did. You will want them to never know the kind of loss you do. You will want them to find everything they want, good or bad. You will pray for them like you did for yourself and the ones before you. And when you will be old and have grey hair and when you would know a lot many sorrows and joys of life than you did before you will still feel the kind of pain you did once before when you were left nursing your bruised ego upon the steps of a house that only sits in your memories now. You will still know the kind of pain you felt when you were a picture of a lovelier, softer and reckless youth. When you used to think you would never be strong enough to bear so much.

But you will know when your life comes to a close that you are stronger than what you had first seen yourself to be. And you will say as you take your last breath; ‘…In another life time…In a different life...Good or bad, I will be with you and you will love me till I am wrinkled and dusty and till my bones crack. You will be with me.’