A wound that has been opened can be healed; a bone broken, mended. But a spirit that has been broken will never be the same again.

My spirit was battered today. For the first time since Jasper's funeral, I really cried. I cried because I was sad, because we were misunderstood, accused one time too many for something that is not our fault, because my love for the unit has been questioned one time too many, and too harshly this time. How can anyone even dare to say that I do not love the unit? For 4 years, I have given it my all, and even at the end of the day, when the journey's almost ended, I am still questioned about my motives? The truth is, I have none.

Maybe we were wrong. No, we weren't wrong. We were tired; we felt that doing one more try would not help matters, would not help us improve, but I agree that we should not have given in to our tiredness. We should have persevered, but we wanted to be truthful. Well, I've learnt that sometimes, it's better to act than tell the truth. Honesty has gotten me into trouble too many times. If that is so, why then is it still pursued? I thought I was doing the right thing, telling the truth, but sometimes the consequences are not worth it.

Battered, my spirit is, as it was 2 years ago, but never broken. I hope my spirit will never get broken. I love the unit too much for that. But what if one day, I suddenly find that my spirit can no longer withstand the strain? When I find that the passion has been replaced by lethargy, by apathy? That is my single greatest fear. It must never come to that. I cannot allow it.

Like a piece of metal that has been hammered till it is out of shape, my spirit can bend, but it will not break. It will never break, but can I bend it back into shape? Will it ever be the same as before?


P.S. Sorry if you don't understand any of this. This post is just for me to vent my pent up feelings.