People can be both heartwarming and devastating. They can bring love and joy, filling our lives with meaning and making our world a better place. Yet, at the same time, they can be the source of pain and heartache. It’s an irony of life.
Right, people come and go.
However, I like to think of those who leave as neighbors. Sometimes we part ways for good, for the sake of peace. Parting ways is a natural part of life. You know how they say to love is to let go? Letting go often feels like the ultimate act of love.
But in my mind and heart, we’re still neighbors. We’ll occasionally pass by each other, exchanging nods and smiles, each holding tight to a piece of our shared memories. Your secrets are safe with me – I might even forget them. My home is always there for you if you need shelter. It’s okay if you don’t knock, but if you ever do, I’ll welcome you with open arms. There might be some awkward silences, but since you carry a piece of my heart, it’s not easy for me to erase you completely.
There may be boundaries between us, but I’d still serve you your favorite peach tea with love, just as I would move mountains for you. It might not taste the same – perhaps a bit more bitter – but you seem to enjoy that slight bitterness.
After all, what we had throughout our journey was bittersweet.
When you put down the cup and excuse yourself, I don’t stop you, even though my heart longs to grab your hand and beg you to stay a while longer. Instead, I smile and nod, wishing you a safe journey home. Perhaps it’s self-respect speaking – I’ve grown more mature, haven’t I?
I told you to drop by anytime because this home was once yours too. There are traces of you here that I can’t completely erase – like the sound of your laugh, the comfort of your presence, and the memory of how you broke a glass that shouldn’t have been touched. Whether good or bad, these traces show that you were here.
I watch you walk back to your house next to mine, as my heart whispers a silent prayer that you’ll come back for another tea. Then the emptiness hits, and what’s left is the piece of you that I carry everywhere.
