I am hesitant to write this post. It is something that has hung over my mind for the last several months now, and yet I still feel inadequate to put it into words. In this post I do not offer any advice or helpful thoughts. Only my own confusion. In most things, though I have much to understand, I feel that there is a glimmer of truth that bit by bit makes itself known to me. In this matter above all, I feel green, small, and very far away from achieving any kind of understanding. Today, I will attempt to put words to my love and grief.
Last summer, I fell deeply in love with a wonderful man. I am no stranger to romance. I had dated many men, in many places, in relationships of all varieties. I was seeing someone else at the time, as was he, but when we met each other, every other person was forgotten. For the following days we frequently could only stare at each other, laughing and shaking our heads in disbelief. Surely this was it.
What happened, I still don’t fully understand, and isn’t the point of this post. The point is that its over. His leaving me is second in emotional pain only to the death of my mother six years ago. Indeed it touched a similar spot, I think, and aggravated the old wound with the new one. What followed proceded as though it had been already written. Neither of us was perfect. His faults are many and so are mine, and there were many things that stood between us: distance, age, culture. But all those things were small in comparison to what we thought we’d found.
It’s been almost three months now, and I am still struggling to process these emotions. What does it really mean to get over someone or to move on? I am not one to mope and wallow. Life will go on, much as it always had. Life is relentless, even in the face of grief and loss, and nothing is gained by refusing to run on with it. But what is the healthy way to proceed from where I am?
When most people talk about love, I find that what they really mean is a mutual addiction to each other emotionally. They do not love the other person so much as love the emotional role that person plays in their life. I will not pretend that I could love him perfectly without some unhealthy attachment, but even stripped of my attachment the fact that I love him is more certain and true to me than most of what I know. I can’t imagine the day when I will not. Something in me recognizes something beautiful in him, whether he is tired, angry, anxious, lost, or away from me.
I hope to love another, equally deserving person one day. Will I ever be able to look at that person with fresh eyes without judging one against the other? Will I ever be able to love as wholly and fully, without fear or reservation again? I want to. The love I experienced with him was the kind I’d always hoped but hardly believed was possible. For my own sanity and well being I have to believe that it is possible again. With this love I am ok. I can continue to carry it, but what of the things that hold me back? The pull and sadness the comes with us moving even farther away to pursue our lives? The intense missing of his person?
My love will always be with him, so I am faced with this seemingly unrealistic task: To move on, I must let him go. To let him go, I must really and truly disentangle my love from my attachment. Only then will I be free, and capable of loving that way again.
Understanding is the easy part. It is the doing that will take time. I suppose I am impatient. I want to feel free and balanced NOW, but I recognize now that it will be an active process, but one that will be worth it in the end.
If you have any comments or words of advice for me, I would love to hear from you!