When I was in 12th grade I had a Chumash teacher who would not let us write notes in her class. She wanted us to give her class our undivided attention. All was fine and dandy with my classmates until midterms and finals came along and that’s when they would panic. Without notes to fall back on, how would they be able to familiarize themselves with the material and feel confident enough to take the test and answer the questions? For me on the other hand, her class was a breeze. I wouldn't even study before tests. It was the biggest thrill in learning when there were a slew of questions and then it all came together in a Ramban or Rambam or Rashi. I would open the Chumash, read the Meforshim and just make sense of everything. It was all there.
I broke up a few months ago with a guy I dated for a while. At first, I was able to write a glass-half-full post about why it was good for me. For all intents and purposes, I bounced back pretty quickly. I had to. I couldn't stand how people pitied me. It was practically public knowledge that we were dating and going to get engaged. We were so sure of it that even I, an extremely private person, shared it with many people. So when it ended, there were that many more people who knew about it and that many more people who felt bad for me. I couldn't take it, the pity. Besides, I had to function. Life doesn't (and can’t) stop because I’m in pain.
So I tried to go on with my life. I didn't take into account, though, how agonizing the reminders would be. Every car I saw that resembled his (unique) car would make my heart skip a beat. The songs that we discovered and fell in love with together. The sound of the unique ringtone I gave him on my phone. I can’t forget and move on because I’m constantly being reminded of him and our time together. And it always causes my heart to twist inside my chest. I don’t go a day without thinking about him, missing him, wondering how he’s doing, rationalizing and fighting brain against heart about why it could work, if only….
And so today and every day I question why I had to go through this. Why give me something so amazing and then pull the rug out from right under me? What did I gain out of the experience? Sure, there is some good that came out of it. I learned a lot about myself. I opened myself up to new experiences. I was open-minded. But still. I can’t stop taking the whole saga apart, picking at the scabs until they bleed because I want so badly to understand it. I need to make sense of it all. But I can’t. It seems so cruel; the pains overshadow the gains by a long shot.
I’m a BY girl like the next and I know that there are no answers here. This isn't Chumash where everything is clear cut and the puzzle pieces come together at the end. But I know that everything is for the best. And I know that some day in the future I may be thankful for this pain because…I don’t know. That remains to be seen. Or not.