it's like picking at a scab

it's been almost two months, yet i still find myself thinking about you.

usually i push my thoughts aside, most of the time i succeed in immersing myself in something else (i suppose it's hard to think when you're occupied with work, talking to others, or just trying to survive another brutal CrossFit workout), but it's the quiet moments that get me. and they're lying in wait for me everywhere - journeys on the bus staring out of the window, walking home from the MRT, even those long swims in the pool. don't get me wrong, i'm not clutching at straws here. i know it's over, but a part of me still grieves. i keep telling myself to move on, to get a grip, to leave you behind. at least the pain ebbs away a little everyday.

***
In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.
- Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

Band of Brothers

"Anything was better than the blood and carnage, the grime and filth, the impossible demands made on the body --- anything, that is, except letting down their buddies... They also found in combat the closest brotherhood they ever knew. They found selflessness. They found they could love the other guy in their foxhole more than themselves. They found that in war, men who loved life would give their lives for them."

- Band of Brothers

Words to Live By

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy course; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat."

- Theodore Roosevelt, 1916