In the last month the path I was walking took a frightening but amazing turn.
Two and a half years ago I fell in love with a man who I have not been able to stop loving since. We have wreaked each other. We have taken each other apart and been unable to put the pieces back. The story is sad if you care to look through the eyes of each of us alone and see how much we loved, how much we wanted each other, how misunderstood we both were. Of course, the people who needed to see the love that was there never did.
So, after a long journey I was finally forced to face the lesson that was begging to be taken. Even if I could have emotionally endured the pain I was in, my body could not and gave me a rather scary ultimatum. Time to make the rather uncomfortable move of going to a counselor. We shall call her Gillian (because, well, that is her name).
Gillian began holding my hand through the start of this whole process. For the first time in years I felt like someone liked me even though they knew all the shitty stuff about me. I could tell her all the horrible nasty thoughts in my head, and the terrible stuff I had done and she would understand why I acted that way - without the need for me to start with all my well-rehearsed excuses. I think that the understanding she showed me began a process that unfurled all the parts of me that had been crippled by fear. I had not tasted understanding in such a long time. Finally I had a foundation on which to practice being myself.
Then one of the coolest friends I have lent me a book that stopped me in my tracks and turned me to face the complete opposite direction. I had been introduced to the concepts of intention and innocence. Such simple and natural ideas but ones that had long been overridden by fear. Now I had to begin the process of viewing the whole world differently, assuming their innocence, and facing the reality of how many relationships I had right royally screwed over because I hadn’t seen the love that was being offered. I hurt the other people for sure, but the person I hurt most was me.
Out of responsibility came freedom. I can change my own behaviour and no longer need to take responsibility for anyone else’s behaviour.
I think it was at this point more than any other where I felt my path separate from the path my love is on. I am so sad if we are saying goodbye finally. I know I will be ok. I have the coolest friends, awesome family and fun job. But I have loved him so much. I don’t want this to be just some lesson, no matter how valuable. The love I have for him seems so much more than just one small part of my journey. It is hard to imagine another love.
As he drifts away from me I am left with no anger or blame which is beautiful. I didn’t really believe it was possible to change my viewpoint so radically. I know I am ready to see and feel love now. The sadness comes from knowing that he doesn’t love me like he did. He doesn’t often even like me these days. It is no longer there for me to see or feel.
So I prepare to say goodbye to a love that had beautiful intentions. A love that first touched my soul over tea and scones. A love that died fighting. A love that was more to me than just a lesson.
But my silent wish and final dream is that I hear his footsteps walking my path in the last hour.