When a relationship ends it can be sad. It can hurt. It can change you. It can break your heart. I had let this person into my heart and given him mine. I loved him and he loved me. I had trusted him with me.
When events occurred that meant its demise. I was measured, cautious with my responses, considered with my feelings and his. I was aware of the pain and let it out slowly like letting the air from a balloon. I was not on any account going to break or fall apart or let any bit of me die. I didn't have time or the inclination for that and I was up to a point really quite proud of how I handled it. He was too I think. He has really hurt me and others and that hurt him. I wasn't even that angry, though did slip a few times into blame and guilt and resentment. Couldn't resonate with that though. Just didn't feel like that.
It worried me... Too calm... you know? But for the best. I was quiet and tearful and plotted my grief into blocks of time and tried to slow it down, slow the onslaught of pain to an amount I could deal with. Palliative care for the inevitable. My friends and family's response was a mirror of this. The trust they afforded me was unanimous. You see they all knew I would deal with it in my own way and the best way possible. The beauty of being in love you see was not something I was prepared to lose. I'm not losing that. I'm not letting that be marred or tainted by actions that are entirely human because they are only a tiny part of humanity, the sum of which is love in it's entirety. I forgave straightaway. I just did. Emotions that are harmful to oneself when you think. When projected on to others they are useless. Anger and hate doesn't hurt anyone but yourself, so I quelled that by liking myself.
Don't get me wrong here I'm not wandering around like a nymph in a grassy meadow playing a harp. (but if I was I'd look like the one in the picture)
No.
I'm unkempt, not sleeping and my house is untidy. I've not done stuff I should have, I can't talk very well. I'm watching TV and sitting on the sofa and staring into space. Letting this hurt engulf me one wave at a time. This is where the beauty comes in.
Despite all my quiet and measured coping.. The pain is still coming, wave after wave and stronger and more intense, just like the birth of a child. The strength of the love I have for this person must mean that the pain has to equate. I loved him like no one else so this is going to hurt like nothing else...
Oh and it is.
But that's a beautiful thing and just as beautiful as what we had. A part of life. I mean, I'm alive. I still love. We'll all be better for this. All be where we are supposed to be. I won't be jaded or bitter or different. I'll be me. I will brush my hair tomorrow and I will wash up. I may cry too but I'll probably laugh as well.
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