As The Day Comes

As the final day approaches, more and more emotions appear. Some appear and disappear right away; some appear and become stronger the next day.

It's like I can go crazy anytime, if I choose to let those emotions take control of me.

Especially the lone drive home. When the body is tired and lose grip of the mind, and the mind just wanders off into all corners of the memories. Faces start flashing across the vision, closely followed by a tinge of unexplainable bittersweet feeling. Sometimes there's a subtle but noticeable pricking feeling that makes me feel empty and lost, knowing that those faces are marked permanently in my history and forever remain a part of me.

I have never spent this long being in an organization. Never had too many emotions tagged to one place; never loved a job more than I can ever explain. It was a place I called home, a place I was comfortable, where I felt belonged and was in place. It was my sanctuary away from life's cynical acts. It was my shelter.

This place saw me grow from one person with confidence she did not know she had to one who knows exactly when to exert it. It allowed my esteem to soar high. On my first day here, I was like an egg - motionless, useless. Over time, the egg hatched into a meaningless larva. And as if the larva had a clock, on one fine day it started webbing, bit by bit, little by little, non-stop and around the clock until its whole body turned into a hard cocoon. Then when the time is just right, not a moment less nor a moment more, the cocoon broke and free a butterfly with its unique colors and patches.

I was that egg. I am now that butterfly.

My unique colors are blotches from those people whom I crossed paths, those who walked along with me, those whose life I touched and touched mine back in return. Each and everyone of them contributed to the colors of my personality.

Along the way, strands upon strands of friendships were made. Some broken along the way due to conflicts and misunderstandings. Some died of natural causes. Some wilted away unattended while some just chose a different path and never turned back. Where one strand ends, the other begins.

But I am lucky to discover many strong strands that provided support and love when I needed some. Those strands became the cushion when I fell, became the ropes that hoisted me up on my feet again. They withstood my temper, my turmoil, my roller coaster rides. They formed a wall so that I can bounce back and be myself again.

Not a day that I forget to remind myself how blessed I have been being here. And I am forever grateful for each and every moment. Not one will I erase no matter how bitter or how painful it was. Not one will I value more than the other, for they all make up the beautiful years I have had here.

To all that I have known the last eight years, I only have these to say:

Thank you for the light when I was in darkness.
Thank you for the guidance when I got lost.
Thank you for the cheer when I was struggling, and the celebration when I made it through.
Thank you for laughters when I was crying, thank you for the lift when you saw me falling.
But most importantly,
Thank you for believing in me when in me, I see nothing.