I Let Go...

Today I participated in our organisation’s strategic planning day in where we mapped out our organisational objectives for the next few years. Fun, fun, fun.

That roughly translated into sitting around getting free coffee and food, whilst the powers-that-be banged on for a day, whilst the rest of us planned our blog posts.

Let go…

At the Internet café that I stopped by, I was asked by the pretty girl behind the counter, “What would you like, Andrew?”

I looked at her quizzically, confused as to how I knew her, or how she knew me. When confused, I sometimes aim to confuse the other people equally, just so there is equal ground.

“I’d like a coffee, thanks.”

She looked at me quizzically… because I hadn’t asked for a double, mocha, soy latte frappe thing, “What kind of coffee, Andrew?”

It was then that I noticed I was still wearing my name badge from the meeting.

Let go…

As the title of my blog suggests, I do spend a lot of time analysing, judging and basically being downright derogatory towards the other people who share my world.

I sit and listen to excerpts of conversations: “You’re a good person, mate” (consoling a broken relationship), “you should eat, if you don’t, you’ll die” (a fraught mother worried about her daughters obvious eating disorder), “Did you walk all this way for me?” (the pair in the blissful stage of the establishment of a relationship).

Why does this fascinate me?

Let go…

It’s been a crazy past five months for me, and people who have been regularly reading would probably know why. If anybody sat down and took the time to read between the lines, they may deduce that I’m simply covering, and dealing with the stress through the veneer of cynicism, ridicule and attempts at humour.

Nice work, Sigmund. Have a cookie.

Let go…

The wife and I broke up in January this year. People have been surprised at how I’ve dealt with it, as they’ve seen people take up to a year to recover and to obtain the confidence to stare back into the eyes of the world. To recover was simple.

Let go.

The house is sold, which since the marriage ended, was a relationship that I probably cherished more than the one with my wife. I move out of the place this weekend, and I will mourn not waking up to the usual four walls. Sentimentalism is easily discarded.

By letting go.

K severed all ties with me, and I did the same since our little episode.

We let go…

These things had a stage where they were perfectly normal – at least for a while. Everything seemed as it should, as though the world had formed some level of equilibrium around these items, and that it would never be brought into question.

Yet, these things that I could hold, touch and inhale somehow decayed - fell apart in my hands, and hissed away through the gaps in my fingers.

They let go.

The easy option for me would to point fingers, yet there is one unescapable fact; there is only one thing constant in these three situations. These three things are all linked by one, sole, single thing.

Me.

And I’m busy hanging onto the idea that paying other people out is somehow therapeutic for me. Just hanging.

I’m not sad about this realisation. I’m not upset by it. And those people who obviously care about me shouldn’t be upset either.

I am lucky enough to have multiple friends, people who would lift me up and embrace me if I needed. To those people, I am truly thankful.

But you can’t pick up what hasn’t come down to earth yet. I am currently clinging onto some vague hook in the sky, something I cannot comprehend, nor explain deeply with mere words.

But I know these friends will be there…

… when I let go.

I am disabling comments on this post, just so you’re assured that I’m not pity-mongering. Words are powerful. I don't use them for manipulation.