Throughout my life, I have always in between milestones. After Primary School, before High School. Finishing University, before jobs. There was always hope for something better, full of potential and sense of direction.
Summer felt more precious when I knew it was leading to a world of difference in Fall. The milestones kept me going and made the moments in between seemed sweeter. And every moment felt like a transition - a passage between bookends.
And then I reached the last bookend. After the dream job. After meeting the dream guy. Though I have always wanted to travel. Have always wanted to live in a house that I build and learn the skills it take to do it. What no-one planned for was Covid.
To keep me sane I try not to pen up the passion I have for my next milestones. So I clear the passage and take the bookends out of the picture. What remains is a vast of nothingness.
It was November 2020, when I concluded that I can’t seem to truly grasp what life is trying to teach me. Is life so tasteless without the spices of progress? The moment my soul felt crushed, my body started to break down. I have a pulsating migraine from stressed and coffee withdrawal, a killer back pain from a strained ligament that put me to work in bed for a week.
‘This cannot be’. So I asked for a 10-day leave, while the whole world is on lockdown. I revisited the notes that I wrote in times of positivity, and religiously followed the list of my favourite things. I was reminded by my past self to never giving up myself. It is the most important project of my life.
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