The Healing Process

They say Time heals like nothing else.
Today evening, my best friend calls me up to ask me to speak with my past. I complied.
I spoke at length to my past. I actually enjoyed the line of conversations. With a free ticket to wildly hilarious sarcasms that I usually cut (ahem!) I was on a roll. Strictly one-sided opinion of course coz after having been once bitten, I’m super-fucking-twice shy about the whole thing. And closely guarded.
I felt refreshed after having confronted my past. Under glaring fog-lamps, the past admitted to having fucked up my life and being fully repentant about the same. But then again, no one beats me when it comes to talking about our favorite books, movies or music. And hence, the past craved for those glory-filled days from my previous life. The word ‘Miss’ figured quite a lot in our conversations. One sided of course and you can guess which side was that.
All said and done, now I truly believe I can live. I survived the biggest holocaust of my life and now, going by the axiom, that which does not kill me can only make me stronger, I emerge stronger. To take the bull right by the horns, Yeah Bring it On Babyee.
In spite of this, about today’s conversation, my only regret is that I couldn’t stick to the strict regime. It is widely believed and truly so, that to break out of an addiction, you needtcha refrain yourself from this drug for continuously 21 days at a stretch.
Today marked the 20th day since I last had contact with my previous life.
I miss by one fucking miserable day.
And strangely, am glad I’m missed. Coz the relief of hearing that voice from the past life, was mutual and exceedingly so on the other side. I was confused about my emotions. Having taken a vow never to face that part of my life, this was hara-kiri of my promises to myself. I think, what played the truant here, was my own narcissistic self. Listening to glowing reports of how the past got bad blessings from all her friends without exception (except Naali Ka Keeda of course! Now that is an interesting twist. How does he feel about competition? Makes for interesting read, wait up sweeties, I shall pen a longer one on that. – gleefully wicked smileJ) was like music to my own exceedingly selfish self. As I always wanted to be on the clear and hear good about me. I’m susceptible to flattery – there I said it, happy? Well yeah, so with the past being apologetic and being in exceedingly desperate needs to be speaking to me, I gave in. I hope I sounded gruff. And rough. And cruel and heartless. (A virtual impossibility, but one can hope?)
Well, I cannot really say No to anyone can I? Especially not to the beautiful past that had ruled my life for at least four years. I’m the gentle kid who’s still searching for that frame of reference on the hilly countryside. Sigh!