the first year was like a romantic comedy dubbed on a fast forward mode. i fell hopelessly and madly in love with what i was doing, in spite of the frantic race against time to complete project after project. i met many great people, tried many new things, and skipped more classes than i ever had. i remember the company, the stupid taiwanese dramas, the late nights, the crazy ktv sessions, the stayovers and hangovers, good old messy clubroom, 26th, and my beloved arts club. it wasnt a part of my life. it was my life, my driving force and the reason why i wake up every morning.
then came RAG, like a pregnancy. a lot of anticipation, a lot of hope, and a lot of conscious effort to keep it going. we spent six months planning for it, three months working on it, and nine months later, the baby was born -
only to be killed the next day along with my dream.
lesson of that year - casinos are a bad idea. fairy tales dont exist. neither does the American dream.
in a nutshell, we started at the foot of the mountain with nothing but our bare hands and our warm hearts, made it to the top, only to tumble down before we could peg our flag at the peak. my heart didnt just sink. it died and brought my faith with it.
and that was when my life began to slip downhill too. i started doing poorly in school despite all the efforts i tried to put it, i regressed and i shunned as many people as i could, ashamed to face my own failure, which i knew i wasnt responsible for. i just couldnt stand the fact that so many things were out of my control, and that God chose to be unfair, not only to me, but all the people who has put their souls into the project. if you ask me, i still feel the pinch occasionally. delayed grief, as you might call it.
so i dragged myself through my second year, emerged from the winter fog and dived head-first into my internship. during the eleven weeks when i was there, i rekindled my interest in the helping profession, re-discovered myself, and revived my faith a little. the testimonies of the patients moved me, their strength inspired me, but their departure shook the little girl in me. it shook me because i know that in most calamities, the survivors are the real victims.
so now that the rain has stopped and the flowers are blooming, i open the window to welcome the arrival of a new academic year. in three weeks' time, my third year commences, and it smells like the beginning of a spring. and here, i whisper my prayers to the wind, and hope that it would reach my lord.
direction, wisdom, and a light to guide me through my darkness days.
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