Excess Baggage

Cleaning up my closet was the first thing I did today, as I have to move again in seach for my place in the stars.

A journey has ended and another one begins.

My life these past years consisted of packing up and unpacking, and then packing up some more. I give up some and gain more.

I actually find it therapeutic.

One by one I cleared my closet and I could not believe the number of baggage I have accumulated. From old love letters to highlighters, worn out shoes to happy meal toys, dried up roses pressed between pages of thick books to stuffed animals that have collected dust, and other things I cannot even remember what they are for.

Suddenly, it dawned on me, I do have a problem. I cannot seem to throw stuff away. For the sentimental values and what its worth, or maybe just my lousy rationalization.

It also occurred to me that I may have a bigger problem. I cannot seem to let go.

I must admit, denial is my third name and I am very good at hiding. I reckon, it is easier to see things in a negative way so when things wont work out the way I have hoped them to be, it would not hurt so bad, thus my seemingly endless cynicism.

There were also those times when I did put my heart on the line and risked breaking it and getting bruised, and letting go seemed to be an eternal curse.

Like my old stuffs in my closet, clinging to those failures and mistakes seemed like an easier way to escape. Afraid that throwing those stuffs away would mean losing the sentimental reasons for keeping them in the first place.

Afraid that letting go would mean losing a part of me that is broken. Getting used to my brokenness prevented me from healing, for in my misery I have found my solace.

Now I have realized that for me to go far, I have to travel light. I must throw away unnecessary baggage and to throw my cares to the wind.

I do not need things to remind me of the past, as it will infinitely be indelible in my mind and in my heart. It is just so amazing how the mind works.

Ironically, my moving on this time means going back. It is not deja vu but a reality check for me. Maybe I will make the same mistakes, maybe I wont. Maybe I will make it this time, maybe I wont. Maybe there will be more tears, or maybe there will be more laughter. I would not know for sure unless I try again.

Life is a bitch, and yes shit happens. I just have to deal with it.

I must choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tide.