Letting Go

I saw Cynthia again, when I least expected to. And she drew my breath away. Not just because of her look without glasses, it was the familiarity in the smile, the eyes and the face. I then realised how strongly I felt about her that evening.

I saw her at the lift lobby after packing my lunch. She was with a group of female colleagues, but had both her lovely eyes fixed on me as I entered the office building and passed her with a wave. It was as if the whole world didn't exist - leaving just the two of us. At least it seemed that way to her. I grinned as naturally as I could. But deep down inside, my heart was beating double overtime. I could somehow feel her eyes following me as I entered the lift. After that, It was like my heart was ripped apart - I would never be complete. I was like a zombie for the rest of the day or perhaps, the rest of my life. I wouldn't bet against it.

The only proof of my humanity and existence was my tears. And it took all my strength to dam up the flow. I turned panicky. I was dead afraid of not seeing her ever again. I was dead afraid of losing her image from my mind. So much so that I thought I needed to do something, anything fast. Reasoning got thrown out the window. I never knew I could be so vulnerable. I thought I could just keep that precious evening forever somewhere in a room in my heart, worshipping and adoring her, yet at same time, going on with my peaceful life. I couldn't be more wrong.

By the end of the day, I knew I had lost it - I needed to talk to someone, anyone. I thought I hated the situation I found myself in. I thought I was totally immature, incapable of dealing with something so emotionally alien. I finally talked to a confidant - a female friend and colleague; I had once told her that she would be one of two person I told if something truly worried me. I guess I just needed someone to straighten out my thoughts and I knew my secret would be safe with her.

Now, I am all relaxed and rested in my room. I am attempting to let it all go away - bit by bit. I am going back to my old self - at least on the surface - somehow tomorrow. I know I can. Perhaps someday, Cynthia would know. But it would not matter. Not a bit. I am already all changed inside - nothing can be worst.