A Change Of Perspective Analysis

A single decision can be the difference between life and death, joy and sadness, success and failure. Once a choice is made and executed, the result is a ripple effect so strong that even the maker of the decision cannot comprehend the magnitude of its impact. Divorce, the ending of a regretful marriage, is one such decision that impacted me. Waves of grief overtook my days and all I felt was rage. Uncontrolled, heated rage that turned my blood into fire, which I wanted to spit at my parents. Other times I felt numb and would soak my pillow in tears, dissipating my night into nothingness. However, I realized that if rather my focus turned to the better portion of history, and if there was a way to watch past days like a movie, I would witness a heart-warming production.
It would definitely be easier to dwell on resentment against my parents because spite comes so easily in human nature. Without a second thought the blame is thrust onto the other person. In contrast, when a precious asset is lost, the prime focus should be on what good came out of it. Most people turn bitter, which might only increase the complication.

Admittedly, forgetting is not an easy obstacle to overcome. All around there are signs of the departed which serve as a constant reminder of their betrayal. Even the mention of their name sounds like the tolling of an awfully solemn bell (Byron). A mind in such a situation is set on destruction, on the utter annihilation of every last trace of the unfaithful bastard. These remains are the cause of profound sorrow, so demolition becomes necessary. Their abandonment is an unsolved mystery. A mystery in the sense that it comes as a shock: life seemed to have been passing by peacefully. But now it was a storm of disbelief which makes one wonder “that thy heart could forget, thy spirit deceive” (Byron). The shock is greater when the cruel traitor was someone once treasured like a precious jewel by whom they left. An incessant sorrow remains in their wake, and a boundless stream of memories, which can become what is made of them. Choose to think of anguish and so it will be all one remembers, choose to think of joy and nothing but shall come to mind. Hemmings favored the latter and went back to his favorite haunts, recalling the cheery moments spent with his loved one. To forget is certainly a challenge, but forgiving turns the agony to pure delight.
A change of perspective- a little more appreciation and a little less discontent- could assist a restless mind find peace with their lost love.

Hemmings, despite being isolated, looked at past moments, at pictures and memoirs that made having a lover worthwhile. It wouldn’t be easy to merely omit them from memory, or hope to wake up one morning with a blank mind. No, if the relationship was genuine there has to have been at least some part of it that was relished by all people involved. Dwell on those memories, remember those times when every moment seemed pleasant, those times which were spent laughing at trivial matters, those times when the worry of tomorrow was nonexistent, those times where one couldn’t live without the other. A resentful man just might put the past and his head to rest if instead of turning hostile, he forgave and let

go.
Overtime, I have realized that the more hate I build up in my heart due to past events, the more my present bonds get hurt. I can’t afford to lose more family and friends to petty reasons. Divorce is certainly not a petty situation. However, its aftermath sure is. The union between my parents was not strong enough to last: this is a truth I accepted. When I think of the days of their unity, I call to mind the times when they laughed and celebrated with each other, when they cherished the connection they had. These thoughts encouraged me to forgive them and turned my hurt feelings into beautiful recollections.