A dissolution

As we have now entered the sixth month of quarantine measures, I must say that I am getting so used to my new routine in the house. I wake up early, I had to do house chores, do online stuff, help parents, conduct classes, and then some hobbies here and there offline, which actually helps in keeping the sanity; I do them over and over again, day after day. To some it might be boring but for me, that's called structure. 

As we collectively and bravely step into the uncharted course of this new world, I often find myself looking back at my daily diary log, from last year up until the start of quarantine. Not sure what I am looking for, but I am definitely looking for something that may help shine some light of inspiration to this dark uncharted path. Definitely last year was unprecedented, definitely last year was one of the biggest upheavals in my life. But actually, thinking back, it was not something sudden, it was something slow in the making and eventually last year was the year where it catapulted. 

Though it was slow in the build-up, it is still change, hence it is still painful. In comparison, there were moments in my life when changes are sudden, and of course those are solid core-deep painful changes. Like failing an interview for a job position that I desire, or not getting the subject in the school program that I know will help me with my studies. 

I have this weird relationship with change, I abhor it but sometimes I terribly need it. I couldn't fully function when I know something has already used up its functionality and that it is time for it to leave or to be cast away, but it is still there in my own sphere. If it happens I cut it heartlessly, no thinking twice, not even a blink. So I am also capable of swift sudden changes without pain. 

Feels like I am not making sense at all.

Maybe I want to talk about so many changes in my life and in my relationships. Like letting go of some people, maybe by talking about it I can understand it more. It would be easier to digest. 

It is because in my life, I have learned that people are not just people. They represent a part of me, they are the other half of the goal-shared, they are the other half of the planning, dreaming and scheming. So when they leave, it is like these plans just vanished along with them. It is like a room that I couldn't visit anymore because its door has permanently shut. It's heartbreaking because I grew to love that room and I even designed some corners of it, but now I couldn't even get a glimpse of it. See, change is painful. But I can talk about it now because I expected it and I know eventually it will happen, but I am not prepared for the residual pain. 

It hurts.

Maybe it will hurt some more in the next few days or months. 

But it is done.

All that's left is pain and failures and unrealized dreams.

I knew all along it was not meant to be, but it still hurts.

No matter how prepared we are logically and practically, there will always be that part that we can't control.

I know it is for the best of everyone, for the best of each one involved.

I remember days ago, I was watching this live broadcast of ABBA in 1979, releasing their new single The winner takes it all, Agnetha was asked to sing in front of the camera just days after her divorce with Bjorn. Of course Agnetha in her graceful way performed and delivered with such dignified class. There were short glances at Bjorn while she belted out some poignant lines in the song. Note: Bjorn wrote this song during the couples' falling out in their marriage. Up to this day, I don't know how Agnetha handled that kind of trauma, dramatizing her marriage story in front of millions of TV audience while her ex-husband was innocently playing the guitar beside her. Their marriage produced two kids and just a week after divorce, Bjorn reportedly went out with his new girlfriend. What a guy!

Just looking at Agnetha's eyes while performing, my tears welled up. Looked like she was fighting the tears while bringing a solid message through the song, that there is life after the dissolution of something that used to be wonderful. Something that used to define her. Something that used to be the world to her and perhaps her ex-husband. 

Yes, that's what I was looking for. A dissolution of a world. It used to be there, but now it is nowhere. It is just dust. Just an empty space. 

How does one survive a dissolution of a world?

Denial?

Diving into work?

How can one survive when so many layers of personality was deeply ingrained in that now-defunct world?

Build a new personality?

Build a new life?

Assume a new identity?

Maybe there will be more questions in the next few days, in the next few months, but in the mean time, I just want to watch Agnetha sing that song again.