It’s been a little over a year since I left Auckland. And because of my will to move on and find a job and forcing myself to settle, I’m still alive and I’m still surviving. For a change, I didn’t allow myself to drive over the edge. I didn’t cry when I was on my own, I didn’t drown myself in sorrow. Nor did I go out and find happiness. If happiness did happen, it found its way to me. God was on my side with that one.
Then looking back to the sadness that I’ve so willingly hid so well. I’m not ready to cry about it. I know I should. There’s always going to be this angst that will only go away if I allowed myself to just let it out. But I won’t let it. Rather, it won’t come out.
It’s been over a year and I’m still dealing with it. When will it be dealt with? When will I stop being so good at hiding behind this mask?