Monday, December 31, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Love
I love that I love my life. I could honestly say I loved my life the day before he died, and I have days that I love it again.
This doesn't mean that I don't miss him or I've moved on. It means I've (mostly) adjusted to my new reality, recognize the choices I've made that got me here, the responsibility I have in my own life, and I'm happy with those decisions.
It's nice have some sort of control over my own future again. It's nice knowing who I can count on and who I should write-off, what still makes me happy in the moment and what irritants aren't worth worrying about. I think some people call this balance.
I call it happiness. Knowing what to value and what to let go, where he fits in and having a very strong faith that somehow, life will work out. I don't know how people do this without faith.
"Faith, Hope and Love.... and the greatest of these is Love." And I will always have love.
This doesn't mean that I don't miss him or I've moved on. It means I've (mostly) adjusted to my new reality, recognize the choices I've made that got me here, the responsibility I have in my own life, and I'm happy with those decisions.
It's nice have some sort of control over my own future again. It's nice knowing who I can count on and who I should write-off, what still makes me happy in the moment and what irritants aren't worth worrying about. I think some people call this balance.
I call it happiness. Knowing what to value and what to let go, where he fits in and having a very strong faith that somehow, life will work out. I don't know how people do this without faith.
"Faith, Hope and Love.... and the greatest of these is Love." And I will always have love.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
I don't need someone to love again
How can you wish that I find someone to love again? I didn't lose the love. I still love him - more than ever, actually - and believe me when I say he still loves me. How can you replace something you didn't lose?
What I did lose was someone to share my life with, grow old,
and hold my hand. These days, that’s
what I mourn. I mourn the life I thought
I was going to have, pity myself for being here without him, and alone. I don’t grieve for him – I’m a Christian, I
believe he’s in a much better place. I
believe he’s happy, at peace, at rest, finally.
I grieve for myself, being stuck here without him, having to endure the
rest of this world on my own.
Ah, glorious self-pity.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Love & hurt
A friend came over to share a grief night with me, and in the course of my whining and her whining (because we all have our own challenges in life) I found myself saying, "But this, what I'm feeling right now, I would never wish on anyone."
But I wouldn't feel this way if I wasn't loved, and if I hadn't loved. I wouldn't feel this way if I hadn't been able to open myself and say "You are the one I want forever, I want to make you my life." I sure wouldn't be feeling this way if he hadn't agreed and if we hadn't made each other our lives for almost two years.
And yes, it occurs to me that not everyone is capable doing that - opening themselves up for love - and trusting someone with all of themselves, and I do regard it as a gift that I am able to do so and found someone who wanted to share that with me. And I'll point out here that the first thing you have to be capable of is trust - and for both of us, trust in general was an issue and each other was the first person we'd met who we actually felt comfortable trusting to that extent. It was odd, new, and exciting that we could do that, and I think this is what holds up many people from loving to that extreme - for whatever reason, they are incapable of trusting. They've been hurt before, they're cynical, they know that opening themselves up like that means they also open themselves up to the possibility of hurt, and so they shut it down before they ever get to love because they don't want to allow for the hurt.
And as much hurt as I feel, as much pain as I'm in at times, regardless of what I told my friend the other night... I'll still tell you that it's worth it. It's worth it for the way he changed my life, the depth he added, the purpose he brought, the way he made me stronger and showed me every person I could be. It's worth it, because I never felt as loved, as beautiful, as cherished, or as important as I did with him.
It's odd how the more time goes by, the more I learn about myself and what we had. 2 years ago, I never would've thought I'd still be here: the holidays kicking me on my ass and deploying every coping strategy I've accumulated to carry on. I did think that somehow time would heal all wounds and we'd only known each other for 2 years so by 2 years in the future, I'd be somewhat okay, right?
Apparently not. Apparently that's not how I operate, and yeah, I should've known. I knew how rare our love was, how rare it was for both of us to find someone we could trust, and I should've known grieving that wouldn't just go away. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it's just indicative of how I love that I still miss him this much.
Maybe it's just grief process, this two steps forward and one step back. That I had such an awesome autumn let me forget how hard it can hit, when it hits all over again, and holidays are an infamous time for grief to make a visit. For me, holidays are about love and hope. With him I had love and I can still feel that love. Part of the love is that now I hurt. (I'm still looking for my hope.)
But what this all cycles back to, what my friend reminded me of the other night, is that we all have challenges. Grief (aka, hurting right now) may be mine, but someone else's may be divorce, abuse, bankruptcy, or illness. And we all have different skills and coping mechanisms which suit the different challenges we face. I carry on with decktime, retreating to the cave, and zoning out in front of the TV. I remember the good times, the love, and the faith we had in each other to help handle the grief I now feel. We all develop coping strategies to play the hand we're dealt.
Regardless of how life didn't turn out like we planned, we carry on. Because carrying on is living.
(psst... still one of my favorite songs is Tim McGraw's "Carry on")
But I wouldn't feel this way if I wasn't loved, and if I hadn't loved. I wouldn't feel this way if I hadn't been able to open myself and say "You are the one I want forever, I want to make you my life." I sure wouldn't be feeling this way if he hadn't agreed and if we hadn't made each other our lives for almost two years.
And yes, it occurs to me that not everyone is capable doing that - opening themselves up for love - and trusting someone with all of themselves, and I do regard it as a gift that I am able to do so and found someone who wanted to share that with me. And I'll point out here that the first thing you have to be capable of is trust - and for both of us, trust in general was an issue and each other was the first person we'd met who we actually felt comfortable trusting to that extent. It was odd, new, and exciting that we could do that, and I think this is what holds up many people from loving to that extreme - for whatever reason, they are incapable of trusting. They've been hurt before, they're cynical, they know that opening themselves up like that means they also open themselves up to the possibility of hurt, and so they shut it down before they ever get to love because they don't want to allow for the hurt.
And as much hurt as I feel, as much pain as I'm in at times, regardless of what I told my friend the other night... I'll still tell you that it's worth it. It's worth it for the way he changed my life, the depth he added, the purpose he brought, the way he made me stronger and showed me every person I could be. It's worth it, because I never felt as loved, as beautiful, as cherished, or as important as I did with him.
It's odd how the more time goes by, the more I learn about myself and what we had. 2 years ago, I never would've thought I'd still be here: the holidays kicking me on my ass and deploying every coping strategy I've accumulated to carry on. I did think that somehow time would heal all wounds and we'd only known each other for 2 years so by 2 years in the future, I'd be somewhat okay, right?
Apparently not. Apparently that's not how I operate, and yeah, I should've known. I knew how rare our love was, how rare it was for both of us to find someone we could trust, and I should've known grieving that wouldn't just go away. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe it's just indicative of how I love that I still miss him this much.
Maybe it's just grief process, this two steps forward and one step back. That I had such an awesome autumn let me forget how hard it can hit, when it hits all over again, and holidays are an infamous time for grief to make a visit. For me, holidays are about love and hope. With him I had love and I can still feel that love. Part of the love is that now I hurt. (I'm still looking for my hope.)
But what this all cycles back to, what my friend reminded me of the other night, is that we all have challenges. Grief (aka, hurting right now) may be mine, but someone else's may be divorce, abuse, bankruptcy, or illness. And we all have different skills and coping mechanisms which suit the different challenges we face. I carry on with decktime, retreating to the cave, and zoning out in front of the TV. I remember the good times, the love, and the faith we had in each other to help handle the grief I now feel. We all develop coping strategies to play the hand we're dealt.
Regardless of how life didn't turn out like we planned, we carry on. Because carrying on is living.
(psst... still one of my favorite songs is Tim McGraw's "Carry on")
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