A close friend of mine reminded me of a line from Rocky which goes like Life's not all about how many punches you can give but how many you can take. As I woke up another morning with this feeling that I got knocked out last night, I prayed and hoped I could garner strength for the rest of the day to get knocked out again.
As I lay on my bed, was trying hard to reminisce that how long I could summon sadness and misery at my beck and call so effortlessly and how hard I tried to fight my way into happiness or atleast pretend to be happy. By pretending to be happy I only ended up trying to fool myself out of my sorry predicament.
Like always I hoped for rescue from destiny, then sought help from friends and finally I'm hanging on to some kind of divine intervention. The only problem it seems with divine help is you never get a soft landing, you get knocked out and you get that strength out of nowhere to stand up even in the midst of pain.
Thankfully work turned out to be the ultimate solace and the challenge it brings though daunting enough but not earth shattering enough for someone who loved to be knocked out and stand up with a phony smile ready to get knocked out again.
