It was not his fault. But I had hated him for that.

I hated him for leaving me hanging outdated. I hated him for breaking his promise that he will come back. I hated him for making me believe in the so-called forever. And I hated him for not teaching me how to live without him. But I hated myself more because I was overflowed by wrath and blames.

I still believe that everything that happened, happened for a purpose. So I look for that purpose. I try to find the reasons why this thing had happened to me. I climbed the mountain, but the answer is neither in the meadow where I laid nor on the rocks that where I was slipped. I row a boat, but the answer is neither on that banana boat nor at the peaceful sea. I stay at bay walk, but the answer is still neither with the setting of the sparkling sun nor on the surfing of the waves. I do biking at Bluroze farms, but the answer is neither in the animals there nor at the beautiful sceneries there.

My life had changed. And I changed. I seldom talk to people, I blame everybody for each and every bad thing that will happen to me, I make myself not available for any occasions and even make the persons who care for me suffer because I become one of the persons who is impossible to deal with that time. Until, I enter a building and the head there talk to me. He ask me to go home. I trust him, so I do go home.

At home? Yes, I had found the answers—only at my room—the mirror, the window, the clock, the bulb, the roof and the fan. Those things speak to me…

I turn on the light and the light embraced me and reminded me that as long as there are people who love and care for me, I would never be alone in the darkest moment of my life (like this) because they will serve as my light.

I look at the clock and the clock slap me with Walt Witman’s saying: every hour of the day and night is unspeakably perfect miracle. Yes, he is right only if I will accept the fact that each and every one of us will go there at the right time. And it is his right time…now I know.

I sit beside the window and see a funeral service passing by. I made a sign of the cross and tears start rolling down my face. Then the window wipe my tears and he said to me that I should look outside the box—that I should not imprison myself to the idea of depression because I am not the only one who is suffering from a lost of a love. Well, right.

I stand in front of the mirror. And the mirror said to me that I should be strong because the person in the mirror needs me more than anybody else. I cried and the person in the mirror cried with me.

Then, someone knock on the door. I open it and let him come in. Then the door told me that, really, if I will open the door of myself to others, people will come to me and will make me realize that life still goes on.

I kneel and cry to Him. He and he embraced me then. I smiled—fully.

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