Moonlight On the Scars
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They say growth is beautiful-that moving on is a sign of strength. But no one talks about how much it hurts. How some moments hit so deep they never really leave. There are moments, events, and wounds we carry for a lifetime. Maybe we move on. Maybe we feel the spring again. But deep down, a part of us still holds those memories.
We smile. We laugh. We act okay in front of others. But years later, when we walk down a road where memories were once made, something inside us pauses. We take a look around and the air itself hums with a quite melancholy. A deep breath escapes. The pain might have softened by time but the echoes still remain.
And sometimes, it's your old favourite song, playing in a random cafe that once sounded like home. Now, it sounds like something we lost along the way. It doesn't just remind us of the past, it reignites the memories we thought we buried long ago.
That's what life has been like for me. It has thrown me into memories I'll probably carry till my last breath. And yet.....I hold no regrets.... Looking back, all I see is a handful of lessons-painful, definitely yes but ones that shaped me into who I am. And I will always remember what my friend said,
"Pain doesn't fade. You don't forget them, you learn to live with them."
Maybe my memories will always stay, but I've learned to breathe through them. Maybe I'll never forget but I've made peace with remembering. It still hurts....God! It hurts but I don't cry my heart out like I used to. Now.......I take a deep breath, force a smile, and keep going. I carry the ache with grace, learning to accept what is, even when it breaks me. I've learned to let go, even of the things I gave my whole universe to... And in losing what I loved, I discovered what I needed.
As Yann Martel once wrote:
"The whole of life becomes an act of letting go."
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Sometimes, I feel like I was designed not to live - but just to survive. My brain doesn't crave joy, meaning, or legacy - it just tries to prevent crisis. It calculates food, money, safety. It panics. It runs. It hides. And somehow... it keeps missing life. I've spent years trying to understand why my mind behaves this way. Why it imagines catastrophes while standing still. Why it avoids the simplest task. Why it overthinks even brushing teeth, but can ride a cycle for 100 km in the rain without blinking. One day, when I was still, completely still... with no task to distract me... this strange feeling overtook me. The thought that maybe - just maybe - I am not supposed to design my own purpose. I looked up. And I said, silently: "God... if You made me this way... if You crafted this restless, impulsive, chaos-driven machine of a brain... then You must know where I fit. Use me. Don't let me rot in guilt and survival. Don't let me just float. You know this universe in ways I never can. You know every corner of it. So You must know the one place where this exact wiring of mine can become meaningful." This wasn't surrender from pain. It was surrender from trying to control something I've clearly never understood. I don't need peace. I don't need success. I need to be used. Fully. For something only this kind of life, this kind of mind, could contribute. If I am a tool, let me build something. If I am a flame, let me burn where light is needed. But don't keep me in the dark asking, "Why me?" Maybe I wasn't built to ask. I was built to be assigned.
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