This one's for you

For believing in me when I'd lost faith in myself. For challenging me every step on the way. For shaking me out of my comfort zone and forcing me to think about where I was standing and where I wanted to be.

Everyone understands relationships and love and the likes. But what we had, it was so much more than that. It was friendship - pure and simple. No ulterior motive, no complications. Yet, funnily enough, the dynamics of our friendship have always been so much more complicated! I suppose, at the end, that's what made it so special.

My most memorable times aren't from clubbing or beach parties. It's that moment that I was sitting in your room, the night before I was leaving, and you gave me a hug and told me it'll all be okay. And you held on for just a few seconds longer. I felt safe. Secure. I felt like no matter what changes, the friend I found in you will always be there.

The time when I had my head on your shoulder and we were listening to songs. And you put your arm around me. You knew I was beginning to cry, but you didn't say a word. No words would have helped. You just held me, like you always have.

The time when we ordered pizza, a few days before finals. We were sitting on the couches in the lounge. And we spent hours talking about our first year at university. About how things had started out, and how we had reached where we are now. We were both laughing and crying all at once. We had exams in a few days and both knew we should wrap up dinner and study, but somehow, that discussion, that time together was so much more important.

Yes, a lot has happened in these four years, and a lot has changed. A lot of people have grown up and grown apart. Yet some of us have managed to fight the odds and save what we've got. 

And I'm grateful that we were one of those.

I wanted to leave you a small note to say thanks. Thank you for all those memories. Thank you for holding me and telling me it'll be okay. Thank you for calming me down when I turned up at your door at 3 am, crying.

You've always been there, always understood, even the times when I felt like you didn't. 

And I don't know if I am even close to being the friend that you've been to me. 

But I promise I'll always be there whenever you need me. Every step of the way.

Thank you. For everything.

Walking Away

When I met you, I was still lost in someone else. Still a broken, incomplete person, dealing with the hurt from the past. Still trying to find myself in those pieces. 

Back then, I never thought I could ever feel that way about someone again. I thought that the next time I fall for someone, my heart would be more guarded, more afraid, less willing to take risks. Because that's the person I was back then. Every time I started to feel anything about someone, I would force myself to snap out of it. Pull myself back to rationality.

But then you walked in. At first, I didn't give it much thought. I didn't think I needed any safety because I saw you as just another person I would eventually pull myself away from. I didn't think of you as someone who was here to stay. When I first realized that you were becoming more important to me than I'd anticipated, I still believed that I had it under control, that it was just a rush of feelings on meeting someone new, that it would go away. 

And that was true till an extent. After a while, we lost touch. And that might have been the end of it. I was normal again. Or as close as it got to that. I would will myself back to rationality, prevent myself from thinking about you, distract myself. And it almost worked. Almost.

But even then, I guess there were always times when I knew I was lying to myself. I knew you mattered more than I cared to admit. And a little while later, you came traipsing back into my life. We talked, we laughed, we hung out. You knew things no one knew about me. And I would like to believe I knew a little bit more of you than most. You were caring and supportive. You were easy to talk to, and above all, you understood. You understood things others couldn't. It wasn't long in terms of time, but as far as friendships go, you were already one of the most important. I suppose that's really the type of person you are.

You were all wrong for me. You were trouble. And I knew there was absolutely no way that I would ever mean anything to you in the romantic sense. I knew I needed to stop risking everything, I needed to guard myself, come back to my senses. Yes, I knew all of that.

Yet, for some reason, I couldn't. When I was around you, I just never stood a chance. I was the irrational fool again. I was silly and sensible, irresponsible and grown up - all at the same time. I knew I was in over my head, despite my reluctance to the idea of getting serious about any other person again. A year ago, when I was still getting over things, I never thought I'd love someone again in the foreseeable future.

And now, if it was possible, I loved you even more. 

I could've gotten over it. I could've broken off all contact and moved on with my life. It wouldn't have been easy but it was possible.

But I didn't want to. Even when I knew nothing would ever come out of it, nothing could ever happen between us. For a variety of reasons, the idea of 'us' just wasn't possible. 

Yet I didn't want to end it. I didn't want to finish whatever it was that we had. I wanted to risk it.

I liked the person I was around you. I like the person you've made me. I've had my dark moments, but every time I was with you, I was happy. Truly happy. I was smiling. Laughing again. Something inside felt alive once more. After a long long time, I was willing to take a chance and lay everything on the line. I knew it would hurt when it ended, perhaps more than before. But with you, it was worth it. 

I loved you. I loved you enough to take chances. Enough to watch you with another, and still be happy. Enough to be happy with just knowing that I loved you. Without any expectation in return.

And that was the deal. I allowed myself to feel that way about someone again, but I would never let myself expect anything in return.

At least I was mature in that sense. I always knew where I stood, and where you were. I knew that the time I had with you wouldn't last, and that I had to make the best of it. I knew not to take things for granted. All those moments I spent with you, I knew how important they were. How I had to memorize it all, for it would all come to an end before I realized. I was aware of the frailty of love, and the ruthlessness of time.

And I was mature enough to accept that. No amount of time I spent with you would ever be enough. When it was time to leave, I had to pick myself up and leave. I had to call it quits and say goodbye. I had to remember the promise I made to myself at the beginning -- no expectations. 

And now that it's over, that is what I keep reminding myself.

You opened my heart again. You made me realize that eventually, its possible to get over past hurt, and fall in love. You made me willing to take chances and believe in love. That is perhaps the reason why it all happened. The reason you walked into my life. And now, a little while later, walked out.

It wasn't long in terms of calendar months. But to me, it seems like an entire lifetime. I am a new person thanks to you.

I will always love you. And when I look around me, there are more than a few reminders of things that you said or did. But that's all there will be to it. Memories. Conversations I can play in my head. Moments that I can relive every time I close my eyes. 

You will move on, have a life of your own. One I never have and never will fit into. You'll find someone else who will make you feel the way I feel about you. And at the end, that's what I want for you. I don't have to be with you. It's enough for me to know that I love you.

Maybe I'll get over it, and in time find another hurricane that will sweep me off my feet, just like you did. Yet, all said and done, you are a person I will always remember fondly. Through a walk in the park during spring time, I'll imagine how it would be to have you beside me. What you would say or do. Or when the season's first snow falls, I'll imagine how it would be to share that moment with you. When candle light reflects off the stem of a wine glass, I'll see your deep brown eyes. And when I'm standing by the river on a moonlit night, I'll miss you.

Yes, I have to and I am, walking away, but I'll think about you. 
Every now and then, I'll think about you.

If it's meant to be?

Is there really a hidden meaning to everything? 

Behind all the small and large choices and decisions that we make every moment of every day, is it, in fact, a path that leads us to our destiny?

Karma. And the idea that all the hard work and efforts pay off. That a person gets what they truly deserve. 

And there's one fine day when the fog is lifted, and everything makes perfect sense.

Is there truly a grand scheme falling in place - one piece at a time?

Or is everything in our daily life just a haphazard stream of events? 

No big picture. No Karma. 

Just a series of decisions - with consequences, of which we are solely responsible.

Are we just grasping at ways to make sense of the reality we're faced with? 

Reassuring ourselves by taking comfort in the age old "everything happens for a reason" concept.

The way I see it, human beings are so small and insignificant, that it's hard for us to fathom a reality where there's no great big master plan.

For most of us, it's hard to accept a lot of what goes wrong in our day because we think it's unfair, or that we deserved better.

And perhaps that is the reason why this concept emerged - to make it easier to deal with reality. 

To help us make it through the day without breaking down. 

To keep fighting. 

Maybe its naive. Hell, even downright gullible. 

And sure it's wrong to take the easy way out, to expect things to happen without paying your dues, or to dismiss the importance of putting in time and effort altogether, and instead foolishly thinking, "It will work out, I deserve this."

Fate and destiny happen, in huge part, depending on the actions we take.

Having said that, at some stage, we need the motivation to keep struggling, despite the odds stacked against us. 

We need to feel that everything will be okay. 
That happiness - true happiness - awaits us. 

That somewhere along the line, there will be a moment when we realize why everything that went wrong, went wrong. 

An explanation for our failures. 

For the choices we were forced to make. 

For the people we had to leave behind for the sake of the bigger dream.

It's about keeping the faith - faith in ourself, in our abilities. 
Faith in some higher order or grand scheme of events slowly coming together just for us.

And, most of all, faith in the knowledge 
that even though, at this moment, 
it seems like the most difficult decision we've ever had to make, 

a few years down the line, we would gain the perspective and the wisdom to realize that this was the path we had to take to reach where we've reached. 
To achieve what we've achieved. 
And to become the person we were supposed to become, 
right from the start...

C'est La Vie

There's so much more to university than academics.

you spend these few years of your life learning how to live

learning how to laugh and to cry, 
to fight and to make up

learning how to respect others, and to appreciate differences

learning how to make it in the face of adversity,

beating the odds,

surviving,

getting hurt and picking yourself up again.

you spend these years realizing there's all kinds of love out there,
more than just romantic love

realizing what true friendship really means

realizing that there are people who wont judge you by your past mistakes,
who know there's more to you than that,
these people won't ridicule your dreams,
or try to bring you down.
instead they'll silently stand by you, 

and be there for you whenever you need them,
no matter how many silly fights or arguments you may have had.

these are the people you will begin to think of as family,

to love, and respect.

you spend these years growing up

making that journey from innocence into adulthood

making friends

falling in love, 

and then falling out of it!

dreaming, 
and having the courage to pursue those dreams,

making decisions that may well decide the course of the rest of your life.

and then one day, before you know it,

it's all over.

everyone you've grown to love is taken away and scattered.

and the more I look back at our time together,

the more I realize

that watching everyone get up and leave -- it sure as hell won't be easy.

and that's one last thing I hope these years teach me,

how to say good bye.

and let go.

What Happens When You Live Abroad

By Chelsea Fagan

|| Thought Catalog ||

A very dependable feature of people who live abroad is finding them huddled together in bars and restaurants, talking not just about their homelands, but about the experience of leaving. And strangely enough, these groups of ex-pats aren’t necessarily all from the same home countries, often the mere experience of trading lands and cultures is enough to link them together and build the foundations of a friendship. I knew a decent amount of ex pats — of varying lengths of stay — back in America, and it’s reassuring to see that here in Europe, the “foreigner” bars are just as prevalent and filled with the same warm, nostalgic chatter.

But one thing that undoubtedly exists between all of us, something that lingers unspoken at all of our gatherings, is fear. There is a palpable fear to living in a new country, and though it is more acute in the first months, even year, of your stay, it never completely evaporates as time goes on. It simply changes. The anxiousness that was once concentrated on how you’re going to make new friends, adjust, and master the nuances of the language has become the repeated question “What am I missing?” As you settle into your new life and country, as time passes and becomes less a question of how long you’ve been here and more one of how long you’ve been gone, you realize that life back home has gone on without you. People have grown up, they’ve moved, they’ve married, they’ve become completely different people — and so have you.

It’s hard to deny that the act of living in another country, in another language, fundamentally changes you. Different parts of your personality sort of float to the top, and you take on qualities, mannerisms, and opinions that define the new people around you. And there’s nothing wrong with that; it’s often part of the reason you left in the first place. You wanted to evolve, to change something, to put yourself in an uncomfortable new situation that would force you to into a new phase of your life.

So many of us, when we leave our home countries, want to escape ourselves. We build up enormous webs of people, of bars and coffee shops, of arguments and exes and the same five places over and over again, from which we feel we can’t break free. There are just too many bridges that have been burned, or love that has turned sour and ugly, or restaurants at which you’ve eaten everything on the menu at least ten times — the only way to escape and to wipe your slate clean is to go somewhere where no one knows who you were, and no one is going to ask. And while it’s enormously refreshing and exhilarating to feel like you can be anyone you want to be and come without the baggage of your past, you realize just how much of “you” was based more on geographic location than anything else.

Walking streets alone and eating dinner at tables for one — maybe with a book, maybe not — you’re left alone for hours, days on end with nothing but your own thoughts. You start talking to yourself, asking yourself questions and answering them, and taking in the day’s activities with a slowness and an appreciation that you’ve never before even attempted. Even just going to the grocery store — when in an exciting new place, when all by yourself, when in a new language — is a thrilling activity. And having to start from zero and rebuild everything, having to re-learn how to live and carry out every day activities like a child, fundamentally alters you. Yes, the country and its people will have their own effect on who you are and what you think, but few things are more profound than just starting over with the basics and relying on yourself to build a life again. I have yet to meet a person who I didn’t find calmed by the experience. There is a certain amount of comfort and confidence that you gain with yourself when you go to this new place and start all over again, and a knowledge that — come what may in the rest of your life — you were capable of taking that leap and landing softly at least once.

But there are the fears. And yes, life has gone on without you. And the longer you stay in your new home, the more profound those changes will become. Holidays, birthdays, weddings — every event that you miss suddenly becomes a tick mark on an endless ream of paper. One day, you simply look back and realize that so much has happened in your absence, that so much has changed. You find it harder and harder to start conversations with people who used to be some of your best friends, and in-jokes become increasingly foreign — you have become an outsider. There are those who stay so long that they can never go back. We all meet the ex-pat who has been in his new home for 30 years and who seems to have almost replaced the missed years spent back in his homeland with full, passionate immersion into his new country. Yes, technically they are immigrants. Technically their birth certificate would place them in a different part of the world. But it’s undeniable that whatever life they left back home, they could never pick up all the pieces to. That old person is gone, and you realize that every day, you come a tiny bit closer to becoming that person yourself — even if you don’t want to.

So you look at your life, and the two countries that hold it, and realize that you are now two distinct people. As much as your countries represent and fulfill different parts of you and what you enjoy about life, as much as you have formed unbreakable bonds with people you love in both places, as much as you feel truly at home in either one, so you are divided in two. For the rest of your life, or at least it feels this way, you will spend your time in one naggingly longing for the other, and waiting until you can get back for at least a few weeks and dive back into the person you were back there. It takes so much to carve out a new life for yourself somewhere new, and it can’t die simply because you’ve moved over a few time zones. The people that took you into their country and became your new family, they aren’t going to mean any less to you when you’re far away.

When you live abroad, you realize that, no matter where you are, you will always be an ex-pat. There will always be a part of you that is far away from its home and is lying dormant until it can breathe and live in full color back in the country where it belongs. To live in a new place is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and it can show you that you can be whoever you want — on your own terms. It can give you the gift of freedom, of new beginnings, of curiosity and excitement. But to start over, to get on that plane, doesn’t come without a price. You cannot be in two places at once, and from now on, you will always lay awake on certain nights and think of all the things you’re missing out on back home. 

The original article can be found here:

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/what-happens-when-you-live-abroad/

There's Something About a Sunrise

There's something very powerful about a sunrise.

Perhaps its the stillness of a new morning, the dawn of a new day, full of new possibilities and opportunities.

Perhaps its the sparkling of the earth as the sunlight gradually cascades along the landscape, gently giving life to everything it touches.

Perhaps its the chirping of birds, or the light morning breeze.

Or perhaps, its that moment when you are standing outside on your balcony, breathing in the fresh morning air, freshly brewed cup of coffee in hand, staring out at the sky slowly turning from red to a clear blue, and you realise how much there is to be thankful for.

Another day, another turned page - a blend of jubilee and melancholy in that new morning. There's a part of you that yearns for the days gone by. But the sight of the sun as it awakens the world is awe inspiring. Its almost as if yesterday's mistakes have been wiped clean, and you're getting a chance to start afresh.

I'm not an optimist by nature. Far from it actually. But between sunrises, spring songs, and clear skies, its hard to avoid it on days like this.

“Dreams are always crushing when they don't come true. But it's the simple dreams that are often the most painful because they seem so personal, so reasonable, so attainable. You're always close enough to touch, but never quite close enough to hold and it's enough to break your heart.”

― Nicholas Sparks, Three Weeks With My Brother