until i find someone new

"since the last I saw you, I have watched myself go through various phases, none of which seem to have any logical order or duration, but all of which make some level of sense.  there was loss.  yes.  and I admit to some anger, and definitely frustration.  there was hurt. the complete and utter heartbreak, the feeling of being cheated out of what could have been the best thing I’ve yet come upon. 

but the hardest part–the very hardest part–is in resigning myself to the belief that there is no way around it.

despite how much I wanted it to work. 

despite how good some parts of us were. 

and out of that knowledge raises a bottomless sadness that strikes at the most unexpected moments.  it forces a knot to form in the pit of my stomach, a lump—which I cannot swallow—to rise at the back of my throat, and it often brings an involuntary finger to the corner of my eye, in order to keep what’s brimming there safely wiped away.  at times it comes on so strong, that I wonder if I’ll ever be able to think of you without feeling grief. 

I can only call it grief. "

i was so sure.  of things i needed to tell him–things i so believed he needed to hear.  but after nearly a month and no reply… my conviction is wearing thin.  i keep having dreams.  of being wrapped up in him.  of him telling me everything will be good.  that everything is good.  telling me he’s missed my company, my conversation.  dreams that are taking the place of the assurances he used to give me in moments of uncertainty.  i don’t doubt the sincerity of the words i wrote.  i don’t doubt that i meant what i said.  i only fear that he may not be able to hear it.  i fear what i may have done.  what hurt i may have caused him.  the last thing i want–to cause him any pain. 

i only wanted to give him the truth.  the truth the truth the truth.  it’s so difficult to find.  it becomes so convoluted in emotion and passion and he said she said they said.  so mixed up with the mind and heart and everything human, that it looses what was true about it to begin with.   leaving you to wonder what was so important about telling that truth in the first place.  was the truth told in order to give him knowledge of a way to grow, to give her a reason to move on, or was it just to give you a way to save your pride?  to prove that it wasn’t easy for you either?  or was the purpose to make a blow to that ego; to force him to come down; to be sure that he would know his own imperfections. 

i believed my words rang so true; there was no way they could have been biased or colored by a broken heart.  by grief and loss.  but now, after much deliberation, time, and space, i read them again and wonder how true they were.  was i needlessly hard on him.  was i cold and unfeeling.  was i cruel.  i imagine his anger, his pain; his misinterpretation.  characteristic of our own bad communication.  and then i imagine that he’s only taking his time, being rational and thoughtful beyond all measure, as only he can do.  it’s the not knowing that tears me apart inside. leaving my mind lost, and my fingernails bitten to the quick.  i must be patient.  i can only wait.  i cannot allow my anxiety and concern to get the better of me.  i know it would be better for everyone for me to respect his decision, giving him space.  i owe him that.  even if it means i may not speak to him for another two months, another four months, a year, or ever again. 

it is out of my hands.  i need to leave it as it lies.  i can only hope that he saw the love in my words.  saw the lighthouse, through the sleet and the rain.  saw the time and thought and care i put into those pages and pages of my handwritten work, the lyrics of each song, and heard the inf

lection in my voice as i spoke through my tears.  full of grief at our loss, but also full of the rapture only he could bring me, and the utter gratitude that we existed at all.  i can only hope.

it is so difficult.