How hard is it to let go?
It's hard. Really very hard.
It is excruciating at times. Beyond words… beyond thoughts.
Then how does it happen? How and when do people let go?
It certainly doesn't happen overnight. Don't people wait for years yearning for closure?
I look back at myself for answers. I don't find them initially. But when I rummage further, I find a beackon that beckons me towards a forgotten memory... Lost in the process of life. So much so that the only memory of it is what I have been told. Nothing else.
Then I see. I know life had already made me do it. It was the first thing I did before I opened my eyes and spoke to the world, much before i sat up, walked and felt... I had learnt to let go.
Life taught me to let go of the damp, dark comfort of the uterine world, my umbilical cord was slashed off without second thoughts as I was pushed into this side of living - so full of light, noise and confusion. I hated it. I resisted. I cried. I revolted.
But then I blended in. It took time, maybe. But I did it finally. I let go.
Wasn't that the first lesson I learnt in life?
Nonetheless, letting go is still painful.
But with this knowledge that I'm wired to do it, there is a sense of emancipation. It may take time, I may hate it, I may want to resist it, but it shall finally flow into me and I, into it. And like immiscible liquids, we shall become an entity that was seemingly always there, waiting to happen.
So I shall not be in denial... let me embrace it, own it this time. Let me appreciate the presence of this excrutiation. And let it fade away on its own. So after some time, it shall throb no more... it'll remain as the residue of a sweet memory of something that I seem to forget - A nostalgia that brings smiles with it and not tears.
And then I shall have done it.
I would have let go.