Well, as it would seem, time does march on and so does the grieving process. They say that it goes, denial, bargaining/anger, grief, acceptance. I'm not sure how it is all suppose to pan out, but I seem to be somewhere in between grief and more grief.
I hit my wall today. I finally realized, with a sinking, awful feeling, how over it really was. Everything beautiful about the love I had, is gone. Five months after watching him walk away, I have stopped arguing with myself and realized, for whatever reason, good or bad, it's over. There is nothing there. As I realized that, all the terrible questions I never wanted raised suddenly burst onto the surface with frenzied panic, the most hurtful of which ends up being, was it all in vain?
I loved so deeply. Maybe realizing that is part of the process, but it hurts to admit. I loved so deeply. The sort of deep where the other person can do no wrong simply because I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Every part of the way I imagined and couldn't imagine loving someone, I did him. My heart was completely won over and I would have done anything... as it should be. Was it all for nothing? I lost so much of myself when he walked away. Not because I was codependent, desperate and needy, but for different reasons. I didn't lose my self-worth, reason for living or anything drastic like that, but I lost the part of myself I was supposed to lose, the part that loved another. I lost the part that trusted his words, his actions and ultimately, his professed love for me. I lost the childhood dreams of loving easily and being together forever. I lost my innocence of believing that love was enough. I lost an easy faith.
Now maybe all of those things sound foolish and youthful, but to me, they were precious and rare. See, when I fell in love with him, it wasn't just him, it was the knowledge that what we had stumbled onto was rare and special and beautiful and because of that, it was worth risking everything for. In storybooks and movies, that sort of risk usually means great rewards, for me it has meant great loss. He did not see it the same, or couldn't see it the same, or didn't believe the same, and thus, a heart was broken, mine.
What am I left with? Memories I wish I didn't have, hurt I wish I didn't know, and a sense of injustice I can do nothing with. I'm frustrated at nothing, angry at everything and confused over what seems so purposeless and vain. Everyday I pray for a miracle. Not for his return (I don't know if I would ever want him back), but for a miracle of heart. I pray for healing, hope and trust in the unseen mechanisms of a God I can't seem to pinpoint. I ask for my fears to be not proof of the inevitable, but smoke and mirrors. Everything is so chaotic, upside down. What should have been real, isn't and what is real, is so unfortunate. Death seems to reign supreme again, and yet that's not the law I live by, which sparks confusion, fear and anxiety all over.
I never wanted to carry around the memories of having loved someone so deeply and knowing they don't care in return. That to them I am just a memory to put away, a bump in the road, something to have left behind in search of better. It's an awful feeling, watching a love that, albeit flawed, but so pure, being walked away from so easily. I'm sure he would never claim it was easy, but it couldn't be that hard, since it's still happening. When you are truly seized by the power of real deep and abiding love for someone, no matter how hard it gets, it's not something you walk away from. Apparently I was only in that sort of love, but I can't fault him for that. It's just my unfortunate reality. Some questions will never be answered, some reasons never revealed and part of the grief is knowing just that.
Which brings me to my next fear: how will I ever love so deeply again? I know so many say, "You will, don't worry, it just takes time." I even know my ex would say that, although I suspect his reasons for saying it would stem more from guilt rather than real belief. He would hope that for me, not ever really understand the consequences of such statements. He just doesn't want to be responsible... for anything. But I digress. I know it sounds foolish, but I loved without reservation or fear, and now, now I know what the pain is. Now I know what it feels like to lose so tremendously and I wonder, will I be able to risk again? Will I ever not wish it had worked more with him than with another? I need a sort of closure I have yet to see.
I have no choice but to move forward, to hope for hope's sake, to pray the Resurrection of Christ becomes active and miraculous in my heart. I pray one day my heart and mind share a peace with my spirit as I see a stone rolled away. I want a Lazarus moment, when the crowd forgets to breath for a moment, while they wait to see if he really comes forth. I want to be a miracle.
But as I am surrounded by death, watching beauty and love surrender to death and pain, my faith stands shaky to say the least. Can He make a miracle of me? I don't dare hope, but instead, I wait. I hold my breath and see if Lazarus comes forth. If He is a God of justice, every bit of love I gave, I had, every prayer I prayed and every hope I held will not be in vain, but rather an intercession. Accepting the end has meant having to believe He is bigger than this wound. Every theological debate, every concept of Christianity, every hope of salvation comes down to this moment for me, will His death and resurrection bear a witness in my own?
I know I can't expect overnight answers. I can't expect everything to be okay tomorrow, and I do know patience is not my strongest gift, but I also know I am willing and able to submit. If peace that passes understanding is even possible, I know right now is the time I need it most. When the tomb is closed off, when death has been sealed as permanent, I have to sit and wait for the salvation of the Lord.
I don't sit and pine for my ex. I'm moving on, I guess that's why the stages are moving forward. He's part of my past now, and that hurts as well. Even though that's what he chose, somehow, it is no comfort. A wonderful thing died, and I'm not sure why. I'm hoping for a purpose one day, for a better reality, for a miracle. I'm praying the God I serve is big enough to do that. I guess that's part of the request for a miracle.
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