A sense of ending

This is the corner behind my desk. Full of children books, postcards from friends, notes from coworkers and quotes from Shakespeare.

Today is 21st of March. Every year since 2011, I celebrate this day. It's the first day of spring and it also started a spring in my life. I have celebrated this day with my coworker, from Willi, chị Ngân to Alfredo, chị Nhiên, etc,. This year, I celebrate it for the last time. Next time, I will have chance, or I can say I have right to miss it.

When I finished my first year, my former supervisor asked me if I still wanted to continue working. Since then every last day of each year, I had habit to question myself why I want to stay with RtR. Not because of people, salary or any benefit, though I really appreciate them. They gave me a lot, changed my life, helped me to get over the darkest moments during 6 years. I knew well I stayed for the work itself. I call it love. I feel thankful for what I received. Only with that love, I can endure and tolerate for all miscommunication, disappointments, gossips, toxic feelings and unfair judgments. 

This morning, I woke up in tears. These days are very tough. The taste of a sad ending is not easy at all. Love, family and work are all in trouble. And all those toxic conversations last week at workplace broke me into pieces. I wonder where all of them come from? Hatred, misunderstanding, intolerance, or what else. Or from miserableness of people. On the way coming back from the office last week, I really want to take my passport and run away immediately to somewhere. All the terrible syndromes of November suddenly came back to me like a hurricane. My vulnerable defense system has just been built from the therapy session with Mila in December and now it collapsed. 

Mila called me again. I don't know why she always appears when I need support most. How can she feel it when she is in Brazil now? Quick and short conversation. And again, she asked me to not close my heart, to not defense for myself. It's not a war. Remember about good things, memorable memories.

Coincidentally, tonight I went to visit a private class for primary students, organized by two friends. I came late. When I entered to the classroom, I found out that they were using the very first book that I wrote for RtR in 2011, the An unlikely friend. I nearly cried again when a child came to me and asked : "I know you, you are in the cover of the book. So do you like whale?"

And I choose to love, again, the work itself. I choose to remember about it. I am still in love with it though it's time for leaving.