The Strongest Force That Lets You Stay

Breakup is the hardest painful thing a man or women can feel.
Sorrow is as the same as one loved one dies?
Breakup is the greatest failure a man or woman ever experience.
An experience of detachment.
A detachment to the one he/she hold the tightest caress and love ever!
A separation from the suppose and believe to be the other half.

Love that let two persons become one.
Love that let two persons become its own freedom.
Love that let two persons share same feelings.
Love that let two persons laugh together.
Love that let two persons journey side by side.
Love that let two persons bring together.
Love that let two persons go along together.

Even though they are already separated, one of them will still hold on.
He\she is the one who is not giving up.
Who wants their dreams come true.
Who is keeping the relationship be the same again.
Who hold on to the promises they have made.
Who hold on to the love that he\she has.
A love, full of hope, the strongest force that makes him\her stay.

Why "Letting Go" is an Art?

Let me share with you this excerpt simple and meaningful poem:

"The Art of Letting Go
By Consrael
 
It's over. He's gone.
Why do we have to part while
the love is still there?
Why do we have to suffer?
Why do we have to cry when
somebody bids goodbye?
Why do beginnings have an end?
Why do we have to meet
only to lose in the end?
There are questions left unanswered,
words left unsaid, letters left unread,
poems left undone, songs left unsung,
love left unexpressed,
promises left unfulfilled.

In a relationship,
one of the hardest things to do
is saying goodbye and letting go.
It is as hard as breaking a crystal
because you'll never know when you
will be able to pick up the pieces again.
More often than not, they who go,
feel not the pain of parting:
it is they who stay behind that suffer,
because they are left
with memories of a love
that was meant to be,
a love that was.
 
At the beginning and at the end
of a relationship,
we are embarrassed to find ourselves alone.
Unfair as it may seem,
but that's the way love goes.
That's the drama, the bittersweet
and the risk of falling in love.
After all, nothing is constant but change.
Everything will eventually come to its end
without us knowing when,
without us knowing how,
without us even knowing why.
And we must forget not because we have to
but because we have to.
 
In letting go, sorrows come
not as a single spy but in batallion.
It seems that everywhere you go,
everything you do,
every song you hear,
every turn of your head,
every move of your body,
every beat of your heart,
every blink of your eye and every breath
you take always reminds you of him.
It's like a stab of a knife,
a torture in the night.
Funny how the whole world
becomes depopulated
when only one person is missing.
Just imagine,
there are billion people on earth
and yet it seems you feel lonely
and empty without the other.
I don't know if it's worth calling an art,
but letting go entails
special skills sparkled
with a considerable space and time.
Time heals all wounds but it takes
a little push on our part.
Acceptance plays a part.
Not all love stories end with
"...and they live happily ever after."
 
Sometimes we have to part because of
circumstances beyond our control.
We have to suffer if it would
mean happiness for others.
We have to cry to
temporarily let go of the pains.
Every beginning has its end
like every dawn has its dusk.
It's something we can't control,
something we had to live up.
 
It's over.
He's gone. But life has to go on.
Goodbye doesn't always mean forever.
There will always be a place and time
where questions will be answered,
words will be spoken,
letters will be read,
poems will be recited in the night,
songs will be sung in harmony,
love will be expressed in solitude and
promises will be fulfilled.
Somewhere. Somehow. Someday."

As you can see this poem really speaks that much. It is really a reflective poem.  A real experience express out into words. The poem itself explains deeply why "Letting Go" is an Art.

The Other Side of Me

They said, "There are things other people knows about you that you do not know."
Whatever that might be, let it be.
That is just their observations and interpretations.

I believe, they can only see what appears to me.
Their mere eyes cannot see beyond its limits.
They cannot even go and see my past.
Thus I am the only one who have the memories of them all.
And some of them I have forgotten (",)
However, I dare they will tell me, positive or negative it does not matter.
...

Well, those are the things they can only see.
Those would be the other side of me.
The real me? The whole of me?
They do not know and would never know.
Unless they can go back to the time of my birth 'till now.
Watching and observing my growth.
Whatever they say, I have my own story as they have.
My other side, as I know it. My me.