I walked into the restaurant and felt like I was in some sort of time warp, looking around with the same eyes but coming from a different, more insightful place. The last time I was here was almost two years ago, but it seemed much longer than that, knowing my life had changed dramatically since then.
I remembered how I looked that day, what top and shoes I was wearing, how I wore my hair, how I spent that night here in this place. I seemed so young back then, an idealistic person who thought everything was where it was supposed to be in the world. I was happy. And content. And I thought it was enough.
Em and I were led to a table at the back, a big table good for four people. I glanced to my left, where there were people seated at the booths and focused my attention on the second to the last booth, where we had been seated that day. I could imagine myself there with three other people, eating the complimentary ice cream. It was a good memory, but I shook it off.
Em and I transferred to a booth at the opposite side of the room, and ordered a liter of Long Island. We had gourmet burgers and a glass of white wine for dinner and were already feeling the kick of the wine, though we couldn’t stop talking and laughing as we ate the herb bread and gulped down our drinks.
In between the laughing and gulping, I couldn’t help but think about how much I had changed—how I was still the same person but in some aspects how I wasn’t the same anymore. Flashbacks of those days when I had wanted to sleep and never wake up again went through my mind. I had been broken by the same person who used to make me feel alive. I felt betrayed, like everything I believed in wasn’t real. It crushed me and I felt empty for weeks. I didn’t think I would be able to recover. But I did.
If you would ask me if I would go through all that pain again, I would. Just to be where I am now. I wouldn’t trade the good place I’m in now for anything.
It’s so easy to be cynical about relationships, about life. But now I’m even more hopeful and grateful for the life I’ve been given: a renewed appreciation for my family, my true friends, people who matter and who genuinely care about me. I make it a point to show them how much they matter to me as often as I can. It’s like being born again and seeing the world for the first time, awed by the beauty around me.
I learned that it’s okay to feel a little down sometimes—morbid even. But after that, you have to pick yourself up, consciously make an effort to find reasons to be happy (because there always are) and just start living. I owe it to myself. I have learned how to believe people when they tell me I deserve to be happy, when they say I deserve better. And to believe them when they tell me I’ll be happier after going through hell.
After an hour, Em and I finished our drinks. As we were walking out of the restaurant, I sensed an odd feeling of calmness wash over me. We stepped out into the airless summer night and noticed droves of people still waiting for tables while others were eating with their dogs lying near their feet. We walked toward the driveway where we could catch a cab.
Em had to go to the restroom, so I sat on a bench and reflected again on the night I just had. I closed my eyes for a few seconds and said a silent thank you and a prayer for guidance. Then I felt a gentle breeze just above my left ear.
I was moved. He was listening. And He wanted me to know He was.
It was a spiritual moment, one that I will never forget—an anecdote I can imagine sharing with other people and one that would make a good short story for a book I dream of writing.
Em reappeared and hailed a cab. We both agreed that those gourmet burgers were definitely a good buy and that the Friday night we just had was a blast.
Life is great. God is great.
Kathrina Paz Elefante, 26, works as a demand generation specialist at Genie Technologies Inc.