As I continue to come down from the high of pain, the view is not what I expected. The landscape is much bleaker, much more devastating and scary. Terrible, I know.
When I last went to therapy, I asked her if I would be like this forever. Broken, jaded, hurt, angry and cynical. Would I ever return to the joyful, fearless version of myself? Or would I remain damaged, never knowing the freedom of complete and total redemption? Would I always be waiting on the platform, watching everyone else's train come through? She said there was never a way to know, but that I had choices along the way as well. It didn't help at all.
The thing I fear most is not being alone, I'm not lonely, ironically, I feel closer to my friends and family and the Lord, than I ever have. It's not being without him, I gotten this far, I'll live another day, and yet another and yet another. It's not worrying that I will never heal, I believe time and prayer will continue to soften the blow, someday bringing me back to smiling again. No, it's none of those. The biggest, most looming, worst fear I could ever know, is never loving anyone the way I loved him.
I walked into my house today, saw the Christmas tree my mom bought and broke down. Tears started streaming and I could barely get up the stairs. We used to spend Christmas together. I loved it. I always came home to him. We used to sit on my bed and talk for hours. I would run into his arms and he would pick me up and hold me so tight. We were inseparable. There was more passion, kismet, attraction, love, connection, chemistry and beauty between us than I still have yet to witness in any other couple. It just never had a chance to grow through honesty, work and hardship.
What I fear now is never feeling that again. I have yet to meet a man I could even imagine loving that much. No one has ever held my attention, my passion, my focus, no one have I ever admired, felt adored and so connected with. I hate to think it was all in my imagination, all false and full of ignorance and doubt, but according to him, that's the case. Apparently he was never really that sure, never really loved me that way and it was more real for me than for him. The trouble is, even if he is right and it was all just in my head, well I still have the long term effects of loving someone as deeply as I did him. He may be walking away comfortable, safe in the knowledge that we were never right for each other and we weren't meant to be, but I'm not. This was it for me, I was sold, and I used to think he was too. I guess I was fooled. I guess my heart was hoodwinked and I was completely unaware of the treachery at hand.
But now I am left with the wreckage, the remnants of the most beautiful love I have ever seen and I fear nothing will ever look the same again. It's almost like going to Trump palace and then having to move into a shanty. How do I ever make this home? Will I have to settle for a muted version of what I had? Or will I never be able to, thus doomed to a life as a cat lady, hoping for an illusive image of some love lost? Both seem probable, neither appetizing.
Everyone tells me to have faith, to believe that's not God's heart for me. I want so badly to believe them, but when you have been dealt the blows I have, when you have continuously watched good things die, eventually you stop hoping and cynicism seems more practical and less disappointing.
I guess this is where letting others have faith for me comes in. I'm not going to lie, I don't know what to believe. There's always an excuse, a reason why things don't work out, but eventually excuses and reasons mean so little as the pattern becomes the more prominent message.
I don't hold it against God. I've been down that road, He brought me back. I also know, however, He will not control people. So somehow, throws puts me back into the great open sea of subjectivity. He will not control people and their decisions, thus, people are able to hurt, kill and destroy. As this is true, the question becomes how can He ever bless me through a sort of love? So the love of my life decided he didn't love me anymore, God won't stop that. Does that mean there is a chance I will never meet someone that could possibly love me forever? I mean, He won't control people, so how can I trust that He will "bring" me someone? Is it a random sequence of events and coincidences? Or are the strategically done? And if they are strategically done, how is that any different than controlling someone? Is there a difference between determining an outcome, as in the case of Him wanting to prove Himself through the Ten Commandments, and stopping someone from making a stupid decision like letting an incredible love slip away? How are they different and what makes one more accessible to Him than the other?
Don't get me wrong, I would never have wanted him to stay with me if God was the only thing keeping him there. I would want it to be a choice. So maybe that's my answer. It's all about choices. That begs the question though: Why put me through it if He knew what would happen? I guess that's an easy one though. The trite, yet accurate answer of drawing me closer to Him comes to mind. It feels trifling though, somehow unfair.
At the end of it all, I'm going to be sincerely pissed if He let me love this much and lose this much only to never know love as good again. There could have been a million ways God could have revealed Himself to me, but it would be particularly cruel for him to use the method of great love lost to never redeem it. Maybe I could be happier without it, maybe that's supposed to be the miracle. Maybe I will be happier in life alone, serving Him without someone else. I guess that could be true. All I know is, I can never go back, never settle, never not know what it's like to have loved this much and that sucks.
Experience would tell me that end result is most likely. Nothing good ever lasts. How hopeless is that? How depressing? Well, trying being in my head. I can't even begin to describe how true it feels... and that scares me. It scares the hell out of me.
In John 10, Jesus says "I do not do the works of My Father, do not believe Me; but if I do them, though you do not believe Me, believe the works, that you may know and understand that the Father is in Me and I in the Father."
At some point I'm going to have to see a miracle... and a big one at that. And even more so, a permanent one. I'm going to need to see in expression the way He says He loves me. I'm going to need to see I'm not damaged goods, destined to a life of second rate living. Someday, He's going to have to raise part of me from the dead and it's going to have to stick. It's not a challenge, a test or even a threat. It's just simply one of those places where if He wants me to believe something different, He will have to show me different. I'm only as good as the messages I receive.
I hate ending on such a sour note, but then again, what else to I have to end on, as of right now?
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