The Unsent Series: Volume 4, Part V

.:Questions You Don’t Wanna Know The Answers To: The Unsent Series, Volume 4, Part V:.

Dear Enigma,

I always dread medical check-ups.

No, really. I do dread them. I hate having to be told what I have, even if all signs point to the fact that I do have something. And while thankfully, I have never had a major injury in my life thus far and the worst procedure I’ve endured was either my wisdom teeth extraction (a few months ago) or my circumcision (a few weeks ago), I really am just not a fan of the whole procedure.

That’s why I look to this week with much trepidation as I try to get checked for sleep apnea. I’ve been having great difficulty sleeping for years already, and only now did I muster the courage to have it checked and settled once and for all. Here’s hoping I don’t end up finding out anything particularly earth-shattering. In any case, I’m not looking forward to finding out how bad it really is, and how much trouble I’m actually in, health-wise.

In life, there are a lot of questions we don’t dare ask, because we’re afraid of what the answers actually are. And a part of us, deep down, already actually knows the answers for ourselves, to begin with. It’s why we aren’t fond of self-evaluation at work, and we’d almost rather be secretly evaluated by our peers, with us never hearing the actual comments that come right out because of them.

There are some things for our own good that just aren’t pleasant to hear, and perhaps they damage our reputation in our minds. Or they hurt our feelings. But then, maybe we should also consider what they can do for us in the long run. What they hold for us as learning experiences or chances to grow as better people. It isn’t pretty at times, but if it happens, then may as well not have it happen for nothing.

It isn’t pretty, and it certainly isn’t cause for joy, to put it nicely, yet in the end, things really have a weird way of turning out how they are.

So I guess I do owe you a genuine apology for that. I owe you one even if circumstances scream out to me that I should just go on with my life, business as usual, and ignore what clearly wasn’t something I could have helped. We were both hurting. We were both not exactly in our best of states. And when I had to ask myself the most awkward of questions out there, well, I was indeed afraid to find out the answer.

But so much remains unsaid, dear Enigma. You can scoff all you want, but in all honesty, while I do fear finding out more about myself than I would care to, I’m not afraid to face you and lay all of this to rest. All I know is things never had to turn out this way, and things could have been so much easier for the both of us if we just took the time to actually sit and talk about it. Which, I admit, I should not have walked away from when we first had the chance.

So I’m sorry. You know by now where I’m coming from, and you can choose to believe me, but all I’m hoping is that in time, you would realize that things weren’t as horrible as you dreaded them to be in the first place. And in all honesty, I wish I could ask you myself. I wish I could find out from you if you understand that things aren’t what they seem, and we needed time, and not hostility.

And yes, it’s a question I’m afraid of finding the answer out, too. But each moment that this animosity lingers is even more agonizing to bear, so I truly am sorry, even if I dread what you have to say about that.