Feel The Loss

I spent the evening with a friend reliving the experience. She and I went to college together and she knows me very well. I confided in her… I told her about my exploits and I told her about him. I painted the picture as honestly as I could. I admitted that I was confused and unsure of what went wrong.

I told her that I'd wanted to be big about the whole thing. That after all this time I didn’t want to force his hand. I didn't want to reappear in his life like a bad mistake that just wouldn't go away. She said that my attitude was all wrong. She was certain of it. I wouldn’t take what she had to say to heart until she used the word stubborn. A word he's often used to describe me. My friend told me that I couldn’t be stubborn if I wanted to mend things.

She told me that I couldn’t hide from this. The shadows will not hide you - that's what she said.

That’s what I intended to do, you know. Keep hiding until I got over it. I erased every trace of him. I just couldn’t stand to see him there in the secret places of my life and not be able to touch him. I figured I’d get over it faster if I didn’t have the constant reminders.

I sought replacements only to find that he couldn't be replaced. Not easily anyway. I came close, but it wasn't real. It was hollow. It lacked substance... staying power. In fact the replacement did nothing more than to bring me to the realiztion that the real loss lay in the past... unburied... rotting out in the open.

Truthfully, I don’t want to bury it. I don't want to get over him. I can. But I don’t want to. I honestly need him. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t care.

Damn, this is hard… laying it out there, but I gotta practice what I preach… and what I preach is honesty.

So, I’ll just be honest.

I’ll just be honest and say that he means more to me than he'll ever know.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I can’t post this.

I’ve been incredibly stoic, pragmatic about this whole thing. I’ve tried. I’ma just have to crack I guess. I’ma have to feel the loss. After all this time... I'll finally allow myself to feel the loss.

Here's to a room on the beach and promises made in the dark!

Lessons

I haven’t updated my Blog in awhile. Tonight I’ll rectify that. Tonight I’ll write about what I’ve come to learn about maturity – real maturity. The lessons, though painful, have been absolutely invaluable. I’ll share those lessons with you.

I have loved three men - my father, my husband, and a man who quickly came in and out of my life, but left a very lasting impression.

I’ve told you about my father. I’ve told you about my husband. Now, I will tell you about this nameless man who taught me things I needed to learn. They may not be the things he set out to teach me, but nonetheless they are what I learned.

He taught me that I wasn’t dead. Not only was I not dead, but I was so filled with life that that life had to power to reach out and draw in another person. I learned that the right person would respond. The right person would come to me, cherish me, and love me. The man who taught me this lesson left, yes, but I wasn’t left alone. I was left with the confidence and the self-awareness to go on. My value was proven if not to him, then to me.

He taught me that love at its purest is nothing to be feared. So many times we withhold the best part of ourselves, we protect it, we lock it away, because we know that with love comes the possibility of pain. No, with love comes the promise of pain. Deep emotional connections open all kinds of old wounds even as they heal them. It is the way it is. Sad, but true. Deep emotional connections expose weakness even as they shore up strengths. It is the way it is. Scary, but true. Deep emotional connections, in the end, are the things that actually mature us. We can’t learn to love completely, maturely in a vacuum. We can’t learn to love completely, maturely without loving. We can’t learn to love completely, maturely without facing the possibility of rejection, denial, and loss. It simply can’t be done. To learn to love maturely we have to set fear aside and put it all on the line, all the while believing, knowing that no matter what happens the act, the process will build character and that character will be what leads us past the pain of it and into the joy of it. Simple as that. There is no other way.

He taught me that the foundation of character required is already at the center of who I am. Laid by God, tested by life’s circumstances, and fortified by my own hand. A foundation built on past experiences with the act of loving. A foundation that is imperfect, yes, but solid enough. Strong enough. Strong enough not to fall apart. Strong enough to keep supporting me even in the face of hurt and disappointment. Strong enough to absorb the lessons and move on without resentment, without bitterness, and certainly without regret. Why? Because letting those feelings overtake me will only serve to keep me fear’s prisoner and I will not be imprisoned. I have a goal and that goal does not include living my life as the victim of my own fear. That goal does not include loneliness and isolation. What that goal does include is learning to give and take freely, lovingly, and maturely.

I’ve been having trouble with my back. I ended up in the emergency room a few days ago. The pain was incredible - I won’t lie. It hurt. Bad. The nurse that was attending me leaned down and said, “I can tell you have a strong tolerance for pain.” It hurt to laugh, but laugh I did. “Yes,” I told her, “I have a strong tolerance for pain.”

Here’s to laughing in the face of it all, because you’ve got to be able to take it to move forward.

Spill it out...

First, I’ll hit my knees…

Go back to the source of all good things…

And pray it out… talk it out … spill it out in Halleluiahs and Amens

Then I‘ll turn inward…

Go back to the thing that brought me here…

And write it out… pour it out… spill it out in Zeros and Ones

Finally, I’ll move on…

Go forward to the thing that will sustain me…

And live it out… carry it out… spill in out in a life well lived