Being Unchosen

So much to do on a Sunday, but I find myself writing a poem of sorts, and having a cathartic cry. A short one. Well, longish poem, shortish cry. As it should be lah. Been awhile since I’ve written through tears. 

There’s A Grief That Comes With Being Unchosen. 

All of life we wait in the shadows, perfecting ourselves for someone else, waiting with hearts beating, silently hoping, “Choose me”. 

Waiting for the right time, for the right one who will find us the right one. 

The one who will say, “I choose you, be mine”.  

And in that brief moment, often frozen in time, the joy of being chosen captures you.

Out of all the people in the whole world, he chose me. 

Of all the hearts beating, waiting in hope to be chosen, he chose me. 

Of all the plentiful fish in the sea, he caught me. 

Captive in his net, eyeing him wondrously, I do not see the trap laid for me. 

Being chosen is beautiful, until it’s ugly.

Being chosen fills the heart with joy, until it shatters it, 

Being chosen makes you feel wanted, until you no longer are. 

The choosing is the promise to love and cherish, 

The chosen is the beloved. 

The unchoosing the breaking of a vow, 

The unbeloved the one left to grieve.

How quickly another beating heart, silently waiting in the shadows, is caught in his net. Chosen. 

Was I worthy but for awhile, and then no longer worth the choosing? Unchosen. 

Grief sweeps in and hollows one out, 

But slowly, something else takes its place.

The knowledge that I can choose myself. 

That I am my beloved. 

That everywhere I go, there am I. 

Not an inescapable burden, but an indescribable joy. 

I choose me. 

There’s a grief that comes with being unchosen. 

There’s a peace that comes with choosing me. 

Pav 

26th April 2026.

Ps. Trawling through tidal pools along the beach at Changi in 2022. Must. Go. Again. ❤️ Choose yourselves, dear frens, you are your beloved!