Bittersweet future with every milestone

I wonder how long I am going to pine for someone who didn’t really exist except in my imagination.  How long am I going to miss a person that doesn’t miss me?

It seems like every milestone brings up this grief and sense of loss.  I took my child to school for the first time.  It went well and there’s no reason to be sad.

Except I am missing someone now.  But not a biological relative who has passed on or lives somewhere we can’t easily reach.  Instead I miss someone who would rather imagine my life than keep in touch to learn the reality.

Of course, it’s my own fault this person isn’t in my life.  It’s my own fault my heart aches so terribly right now.  That is what happens when people date people who not that into them.  The people who don’t care are fine and don’t even have to “move on” so much as just quit.  Even forgetting is easy for them.

I don’t even have a perfectly sound explanation for why I care so much.  I do know this person is more comforting to me than my parents or anyone else I dated.  I felt safe then in a deep sense when he held me in a period were little felt alright.  Perhaps he was the person I was most attached to in my life.  Probably because I met him at an incredibly wounded and vulnerable time in my life and he didn’t regularly criticize me in a judgemental tone as I proceeded to fail at life.

But he didn’t “get” me either.  He didn’t adore me or even prefer me to other pretty women.  He just put up with me because of his own insecurities after his compassion got him in over his head.

I don’t know even how there could be a mutually positive conversation between us now or in the future.  Unless I lie and keep to myself that I miss him and wanted to talk with him.  Certainly impossible if I show any jealousy.

There’s a void and when I miss him, it represents that void.  He somewhat filled up that void, but it wasn’t quite enough and it didn’t last.  Even when I was with him, I felt desperate and depressed daily.  I wanted someone who knew me to deeply love me.  He barely knew me and he didn’t care much for me the better acquainted we became.  He couldn’t give me a steady kind of love but apparently he came the closest experiences I have ever had.

It’s oddly painful to feel grief where before I met him there would have only been dull emptiness.

Perhaps missing him shows a really ugly side of me.

A Period of Grief

I remember, after a religious conversion, seeing the sky.  It was blue.

It was as if the world had suddenly burst into vibrant color.  I was Dorothy and I found myself in Oz when previously I had only known sepia Kansas.

I took this as evidence of the correctness of my new religion.  Years later, upon reflection, I realize that I had found something more powerful, although more vague and mysterious: hope.

My life prior had been fully greedy, violent, resigned, and  indifferent.  My life changed at this time and I gained some freedom. That freedom gave birth to a fragile hope.  And the world bloomed in color as it became more beautiful than I had ever known it could be.

The world was the same, of course,  but I had new eyes.

But the dark world of my past came back to haunt me.  This time it was more menacing, powerful,  and hellish than I had ever felt before.  It was a long time of grief.

Again, the reality we interact within and share remained as it is and I was the change that threw my life into chaos.  Whether stolen, forgotten, or abandoned, the result was the same; my hope was gone.

The bright blue sky, same wherever it is visible-no matter where you are-was fading to some pale gray tinged derivative.  I would still try to find that perfect sky from five years ago: tropical beaches, small boats on the ocean, fields with distant horizons.

But my hopeless was gray.  The weather was brutal winters.  The kind that bite deep into your bones.  Or it was dingy, soaking rain with no umbrella.  Or oppressive heat that sizzles and bakes away energy and time.

The places around me were full of ugliness and cruelty.  Or indifference to me, as I became isolated from life.

I saw joy and love others’ experienced from life as if separated by a thick panel of glass. It was clear. My vision didn’t seem distorted.  And the scene was somewhat familiar.  But even if it had been strange, it would have been radiant still, beautiful still.

My life on the other side of the glass was dark.  Trapped in this small cage, I couldn’t find any way out.And as days, then months, passed, my energy started evaporating.  Trying was harder as hope died.  As it was dying, fear crept in.  After fear made a home named anxiety in my heart, resignation settled in.

Isolated, in pain, hopeless, despairing-that is how I existed.  And the days and months added up to years.  As I moved geographically, my despair and grief packed up and moved along with me.  I was chased across the world, through time zones and countries, by a dark shadow only I felt.

Myself was dead.  Somehow, while I was drowning in intense pain, who I was became less than a memory.  It was as if she had never existed.

The conscious moments were I chose the wrong instead of the right had led me somewhere inescapable.  My mistakes that created despair that radiated outward to everyone in connection to me.  I was only sobbing, messy, dirty, and disgusting.

And because hope had already died, anxiety taken rooted, and resignation crowned, this hell was the only reality possible.   That glass wasn’t one-sided.  Those who looked back at me felt as helpless as I knew I was.  No one could help, many tried, the only ones who survived were the ones who gave free gifts of love over and over to an unchanging, unrescued prisoner.

This grief is called depression.

This was the darkest depression I had ever felt in my short life that had already many times been tainted by darkness.

Love Letter 19

The Death of Minnehaha by William de Leftwich Dodge

Death comes to us all.  But when the pallor rests on your cheek, when the hollows deepen by your eyes, when your skin grows colder and your appetite lessens, the effect of all of this will be personal.  When you go gently into that good night, perhaps raging, perhaps calmly, hopefully not willingly, my heart will not pass undisturbed.  Your passing will be for me specific, distinct, pitiless, and raw.

How can we two be separated?  How can I go on without you?  You are my light, bed-side companion, fellow dreamer, reveling cheerful knight.  Your absence will be felt, deeply, in my heart. My heart, whenever the time comes, will be torn.  Torn for you, not because of you, but that you only live in my memories and never again will we pass again upon this earth.

Death will tear you from me.  Of course the tears run down my face.  My breath is only gulped in hoarse gasps.  Wailing will pierce the quiet silence of the surrounding air.  With a bowed head, senseless of time and space, full of physical pain that momentarily numbs the grief that crashes in on me as a tsunami.  I will not be able to stand against the raw force of that blow.  Who could?

My lovely, when death takes you, it will take a part of me, the part that you touched …

Someday I can recover my tranquility.  Someday I will remember you in lighter moments and pleasanter scenes.  But the person I was when I existed alongside you will be gone.  For us both, I will grieve.  Goodbye my lover, goodbye my love, goodbye my hope of the continuing full enjoyment of love.

Love Letter 11

I will sit with you in the silence.  You can’t stop crying, but you don’t have to stop.  Just feel how you feel. let yourself feel the magnitude of what is present right now.  Grieve.  Don’t stop if you are still grieving.  Cry until your tears dry on their own.  And I am here beside you.

You don’t need to say anything.  I won’t ask you any questions.  I will just lay beside you.  What can I do to comfort you?  I can just quietly rest beside you and run my fingers through your hair.  Or rub your shoulders.  Or breathe on your neck.  Or hold your hand.

Don’t stuff away your feelings.  Where do you think you could hide them without losing more of yourself?  I am not afraid of how much you feel or what you feel.  It’s fine to be yourself.  All of yourself.  Even the parts you haven’t discovered.  You won’t shock or disappoint me.  Please, just be yourself and relax.  Enlarge the borders of your safety.  Lie down in peace.  Smile peacefully.  Lay down your strategies, defenses, and weapons for a renewed hope in peace.

xmaslites3

Love Letter 5

Rest your head down and I will run my hands through your soft hair.  Just close your eyes and turn down the volume on all your anxious thoughts.  I am right besides you and I won’t abandon you.  I won’t hurt you, dear.  Let your worries float away on streams created by a steady, gentle rain of affection.

Rest in peace, let nothing disturb your inner core.  You are the same and changing.  You won’t fail or be defeated.  You will endure.  There will be a tomorrow.  And you can be passionate and fierce, but also content and filled with faith.  Hold on to hope.  Your lovely eyes shouldn’t always swim with tears.  Your laughter shouldn’t be muted.  Your smile is beautiful to see-will you show it to me?  Let me embrace you and breathe in the same space.  Let me hold your hand and that action will tell you that I am beside you and for you, in this very moment.

In the coming days, I won’t forget.  I won’t regret loving you.  I am committed to you.  Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  From now on, we are together.  So, don’t despair.  I am here with you in your grief.  I won’t leave you alone in your suffering.  I love you.

Waves of Despair

My heart hurts.  I am grieving.  It feels like waves of sadness will never stop bashing me down.  It feels like I can’t breathe.  It feels like I am waiting to drown.

I feel waves of despair.

Sometimes I just want the pain to end.

Grieving 4

Grief is loss.

Sometimes the sense of loss steals more than just joy and wholeness.

Sometimes it steals identity.

Grief over losing who you defined yourself as.  Grief over losing who you defined yourself with.

My friend R sent me this link.  R likes strange music, bicycles, and strong convictions.

The Division Of Gravity

The woman talks about strength.  Strength to value herself.

But there is still grief.

Grieving 3

Recently I have felt the need to buy a lot of “stuff”.

After a night on the town, I realize I don’t have a party dress.  Or any dresses really.  Or any shiny, expensive, grown-up style clothes.  So, obviously the solution is to go shopping for a new outfit … or an entire wardrobe.

I needed to get my Macbook serviced, so while at the Apple store, I thought, maybe I can update my iPod or get an iPad.  And maybe I do need the original ‘smart phone’ – an iPhone!  There are a lot of expensive things you can buy at an Apple Store.

If I feel a little blue, I definitely will be cheered up by shopping at a jewelry, cosmetic, or art store.  I love color and shapes and how those intersect.  Adorably cutesy-styled or princess-themed cosmetics are my favorite.  Yeah, who cares about the cleansers, lotions or miracle creams – I am a fan of the eye shadows, blushes, and nail polish.  Girly and colorful – I am sold.

Even if I can’t justify buying something I can’t or won’t use, I usually can find room for decadent food.  A scoop of gourmet ice cream, a chocolate dessert, yummy drinks I can’t normally have, a restaurant’s meal with friends – there is always a reason to splurge with delicious food.  And the same high as shopping comes along but is outweighed by the negative consequences when they come around – a dwindling banking account or the empty calories leading to lethargy and weight gain.

So, why shop and eat?  Because it makes me feel better.  But why the need to feel better?  Probably a latent, unmet need.  What need could that be?  Aha, finally, an answer – the need to be …  I don’t know.  Maybe connected to people, maybe purposeful and busy, maybe comforted and safe, maybe loved.  Probably loved.  Definitely I want to be loved.

Piles of stuff and gorging on food won’t fill up the need to be loved.  Distract, possibly-temporarily.  But fill-never.

Actually, what I miss is a hug I can melt into, someone to hold hands with while walking down the street, a warm body to sleep next to at night, a person to say goodnight to without separating, a smiling face everyday, short kisses, knowing another person’s daily schedule, having someone to talk to each day, a person to make plans with, a person to share a vacation with, and an exchange of intimacy and affection.

And no inanimate object, until I get a robotic wash bucket, will really be able to return my affection.

Grieving 2

Dreams can be very revealing.

In sleep, we process our lives.  So of course, in our sleep, we deal with death or loss as well.  But dreams about people gone from our lives can be strange when one wakes up.  I have had several dreams, where in my sleep, a person has been impacting or affecting my life.  Then I wake up, only to remember that this person can never physically enter my life again.

I can dream a person is hurting me and I am very frustrated or afraid.  Waking up from this dream, there is always a painful thought, “He is gone” when I remember reality.  That is slightly relieving but also very sad.  The sorrow comes from me obviously still needing to process my hurt and pain.  Even if the person that hurt me is dead, I am still alive and I was hurt.  And there was never an apology.

But sometimes, the dream is happy.  I am happy with this person in my dream, but upon waking, I remember I will never see this person again.  That is much sadder, because all the good memories and all the memories I wanted to create in the future are over.

But what is most painful about dreams is how reality and the dream are so different.  It feels like I was lying to myself in my sleep, whether I was still afraid, angry, or hopeful.  My beliefs and reality didn’t match up.