Letting go
Have you ever ripped your diary apart and lit fire on the papers? Watch the flames eat away the letters and leave the words turn into nothing. No trace of the feelings you poured into writing, no evidence of the tears you cried into the sheets. It is quite fascinating. We all have skeletons in our closet. Some need to be taken out and buried, before anyone came to know of it and rattle them. Some facts and feeling in life need to be destroyed. Broken beyond repair. Or burnt to ashes for that matter. I have had my share of butterflies-in-tummies, anxious days and nights because of that-one person, roller-coaster-type exhilaration, aching hearts, on-the-spur-of-the-moments regretful decisions and every kind of of instances you can think of that happens to a person in "the-idea-of" love. I can only look back and smile at those because none of them came true. I can talk to my girls about them and reminisce. The feelings are long gone and forgotten. The tiny hea