Crucified (a.k.a. Totally Misunderstood)

I was crying. Not for the love that we lost. I am over that now. I was crying because of how my friends think about what craziness I am currently doing.

He embraced me tight and reminded me that Jesus was crucified because He was misunderstood.

I felt that way last night. I felt I was totally misunderstood.

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I am happy.

Why can’t you accept that?

Why do you feel that staying at his place would make me feel more miserable? That I would revert to my heartaches again?

Don’t get me wrong… I am thankful for friends like you. I really am. But you worry so much on things that I myself don’t worry on.

I know it is difficult for you to understand that by being with him, staying at his place, dining out with him for the past few nights, is my way of ending the cycle that needs to be closed. I am sealing the past between us… as lovers. But one cannot seal the past between us as friends… as BEST friends.

The people I’ve talked with, the people around me and him, think that I accepted all of these too quickly. How can I possibly be happy at this moment when it has only been about four or five months since our breakup? How can I possibly say that I am okay that he has already found another person to love?

Would you rather that I stay miserable for a long time? As long as nine years, perhaps?

I don’t want to. And I don’t need to.

I can say that I am happy because I choose to be happy.

Happy for myself.

Happy for him.

Happy for her.

And I’ve never been happier this year.

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This is not bull@#$%, okay?

Even if you do a craniotomy right now, my brain would be screaming the same thing… that I am happy.

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We have been together for nine years. We have been best friends for more than that. When I look back and remember those nine years, I have no regrets. Within those nine years, we had very fond memories, we were happy, we complement each other. We reached out to each other. That is how I could describe it. I felt that everything is at its right place at the right time.

Then it gets ripped apart…

What I did was like taking these torn pieces, and then sewn together to form a magnificent quilt…

… of FRIENDSHIP.

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Please don’t crucify me for having done that. That was my way of moving on. That was my way of picking up the pieces of my broken dreams. That was my way of helping me out of the quicksand that I used to be in.

To each his own… I hear people say…

This is MY way.

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And I’ve never been happier this year.