On The Right Time

CHAPTER 35

I don't know how strong I am until I don't have another choice. Life can go from hundred to zero very quickly. One day I have everything and the next day everything is gone. It feels like all my dreams are gone and I am never going to be able to do the things I once loved. I'm hurt twenty four-seven and I think this will never disappear for the rest of my life.

For this past few months of my grief, I handled my own healing because I didn't want to bother anyone. In the depths of my struggles, I found solace in my solitude. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the support and concern of others; it was simply my way of shielding them from the weight of my burdens. I believed that my battles were mine to fight, and I didn't want to impose my pain onto those around me.

I embraced my journey towards healing, seeking solace within my own strength. Each step I took towards recovery was a testament to my resilience and self-reliance. Although it was a path often traveled in isolation, I almost lost sight of the light at the end of the tunnel. And as I gradually pieced myself back together, I realized that sometimes the greatest healing comes from within, even if it means shouldering the load alone.

As the cold air embraced me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of poetic irony. The unfamiliar sight of snowflakes gracefully falling from the sky mirrored the delicate fragility of my heart. It was in this vast and seemingly endless winter landscape that I sought refuge, seeking solace in the solitude it offered.

Choosing to face my grief alone, I wandered through the quiet streets, each step carrying the weight of my loss. The chilling winds whispered the memories of my parents, reminding me of their absence and the void that had been left behind.

Yet, in the midst of my sorrow, I found strength in the beauty that surrounded me. The barren trees and frozen lakes reflected my own frozen emotions, but they also hinted of the promise of renewal and eventual spring. It was a season of mourning, a time to acknowledge my pain, but also a season of backing in my trance, as I braved the depths of my sorrow and embraced the healing power of solitude.

Witnessing the beauty of Los Angeles, California in its winter season for the very first time since I landed here gave me a blissful heart. I refuse to appreciate this a few months ago, I chose to appreciate the white walls and silence inside my house.

"Hi, good day! What can we get started for you?" The barista cheerfully greeted me as I approached the coffee shop.

I smiled a bit, acknowledging her greetings. I looked up above her to see the menu. After a few scans I still haven't decided what to get.

"Uhm, can you recommend what you think is the best drink for me?" I bit my lower lip. It's my first time having a drink here and I have no idea what's the best to get.

She chuckled softly. "Yeah, sure. Any description of what coffee your taste wants?"

"Anything will do as long as it will warm me." She smiled and nodded.

A few moments after she had already served the drink. I look at it, it looks good. She smiled at me and motioned me to have a taste of it. I lifted the cup and took a sip on it. Surprisingly, it suits my taste. Masarap siya, the best.

"How was it?" She asked with sparkling in her eyes.

I thumbs up and put on my smile. "The best!" She chuckled. I paid for my drink and bid my goodbye.

"Have a good day!"

As I stepped out of the coffee shop, clutching my warm cup of coffee, the cold wind wrapped around me like a winter's embrace in L.A. Exhaling, a puff of smoke escaped my mouth, a visible testament to the chill in the air.

The contrast between the comforting warmth of the coffee and the biting cold of the season created a sensory juxtaposition, reminding me of the unique beauty that winter brings to this otherwise mild climate. With each sip, I relished the cozy sensation that permeated my being, appreciating the delightful contrast between the steaming brew and the frosty atmosphere.