do i really have someone to talk to?
noone will understand if they dont walk in my shoes. shoes that fits in a mother role, a wife role, a ppds, a girlfriend. i used to have all the chemistry and the romance of being myself. it seemed like the charm has disappeared.
beauty is not going to be forever, being inspiring and fun for others who matters. it seemed i am not longing to anywhere.
the husband is more to work, family man, compared to himself back when we were young. he has me and his son to take care of. its like the romance now becoming obligation.
the friends are we are not in the same phase again. i cannot think of anyone would understand me completely. other people are just having their own problem. arent they?
i had this one friend. who keeps coming on my dreams. almost 8 years ago, we decided to not contact each other. 15 year ago, i was almost certain that he understood me completely. anywhere, anytime, i just felt that he got the time for me. i somehow pray that one day we can bump into eachother, updating of how has life been treating us.
becoming a married woman, i find it hard to open up and be free in telling what i really feel. its just too many hearts i need to win and everything become so fragile.
the sparks are faded away now. its like having a piece of clock that has been broken and it cannot be replaced. the time took it and i cannot get it back.
most of the time hospital keeps me busy, away from this kind of feeling. it makes me numb somehow. and when i got the time to reflect for myself, it found this huge emptiness.
what can i conclude from life that passes me by so quickly? what i really searched for? i am happy of what i have right now, but its like a piece of me missing.
should i embrace this empty feeling and try to get it back? or do i need to fill it with something new? how am i supposed to react to this?
not so long after this, i am sure i will get back to my routines, taking care of patients, juniors, friends, husband and son. and instantly i will be occupied, i will not reflect, i will be busy. but the same empty feeling will just persist there, irreplaceable and forgotten.
now. to whom i will share this writing?
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