The Best Part

Dear,

Some of your stuff is still here. Send someone over, Sunday afternoon sometime.

You know what, beyond a point one just becomes numb. The unsettlement exists in this different compartment of one’s brain and one goes about doing myriad things- cracking jokes and laughing, but it exists all the same. There are times when it surfaces up, and no matter how hard one tries, it keeps coming up and up and then one has to just wait for it to pass. Wait, and tell oneself that the worst is over and these spells will keep becoming shorter and shorter and will finally disappear.

But, one also realizes, that no matter how ugly things may turn, there was a time when they were luminous. There was a time when all of it mattered, and mattered to the point of distraction. And that was the truth of that time. However things may turn later, nothing can change what had been true. Nothing can spoil the beauty that had existed. So, one realizes, that it wasn’t wasteful at all. And that’s the best part.

Yours,