Everything counts

BIG PAUSE. 

That's where I am now... still.  

I've been reading lots of posts in Facebook lately and I saw some interesting status message about living life God's way, and not my way... about focusing on the Blessor and not so much on the blessing.  That way I could be more appreciative of what I have.  I'm trying to help myself in the best way I can.  This is me trying to deny that I am simply, hopelessly depressed.  This forces me to think of the tiniest things to make myself feel better.  

Last night, Sinta and I were talking about random things.  We started quizzing each other about nursing concepts and related stuff, then when we finally had enough, we just talked about nothing and everything.  Though we had talked about our past roughly for uncountable times already, reliving old memories never seem to grow old. He mentioned particularly how I seem to recount every detail of every memory we talked about.  I would recount even the least important of movements, and he was amused.  

I had to think to myself why he thought most of the things I remembered seemed insignificant.  

It's just the way I am.  So what if I can still remember the way he moved when we met down the hall... how my fingers had this spin-the-pen reflex when I am anxious because he was looking my way?  I am that person, who cherishes every heartbeat that jumped for joy, who's always in touch with every ache.  Yeah... the psychologist in MNH was right. I am a subjective person... but... only when it comes to myself. 

So now I had to rationalize why I am so in touch with the smallest of details... because sometimes, when I find myself in a situation where I feel that I am worse than inadequate, these small details are the ones that keep me going.  They give me a glimmer of hope that I still deserve days that all I have to do is love life while living it, while compiling all the smallest details.  

Like when my world was falling apart, and all I was feeling was the terrible dread of losing someone I love... the smell of kimchi from the Korean canteen of Building E1... that blue and red bag filled with heavy MS books, the biting of cheeks while staring at the numbers on the screen that indicated the floor the elevator was currently on... the sliding doors... his indescribable smirk, the swag he had when he walked away... Now why should I forget all the details? When I look back now and then, these details still leave me in awe because of how things currently worked out, while some did not. 

Yes, everything counts... even the light pats in the back and the moments when he had me singing Collide in my mind. ;)