May 17, 2013
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Being back in Luang Prabang this
time feels more personal to me.
I’ve truly missed this place, with
it’s uneasy sense of rusticness
and sweltering heat.
I see a lot more now, of the people
and the places and the notes and
carvings; gilded plaques left behind.
Perhaps, best left to a dedicated post.
Being away this time has also been the
hardest. I haven’t stopped thinking.
A friend helped me realise that I
skipped a step in my rush to
accept what has happened.
In my rush to accept everything,
I forgot to stop making excuses
for Mubeen’s callous actions.
I forgot to doubt my own naivety,
to remind myself that sometimes
people say or do things with self
serving intent. Even the best of them.
Between focusing on not losing
Mubeen and willing myself to be
genuinely, gracefully happy for
him, I forgot to be angry at how
much I was taken for granted.
In my rush to accept everything,
I forgot to take care of myself.
Never, ever again.
I want to come home with a clear heart.
