My heart is heavy in a way that’s hard to explain. Our shared laughs, our inside jokes, the way that we really are the only two people in the world who understand one another. But…I can’t forget the pain, the bruises, the blame, the resentment. I can’t forget the sick realization that it couldn’t be forever, not the way we thought it would be. It would’ve been 10 years together tomorrow. It’s not like I want you back, not at all, but….damn, life just plays out the way it has to sometimes, huh? Dear friend, dear lover, dear adversary, you’ve become one of the ghosts that haunts me.
I look around this space we used to share and see remnants of you - the antiques you acquired, the leaflets of shared memories pinned throughout the walls, the bathroom door you woke up early to fix after you broke it down on July 4th last year to beat me, the closet doors in the living room that are permanently warped because you threw the now gone coffee table at them when I told you it was over. I used to be unable to sleep in our bed, I’d sleep on the couch. I couldn’t name it at first. Was it adjusting to being alone, or adjusting to being without you?? I sleep in this bed alone often now, taking up the space of the queen mattress as one person. I’ve also learned to share this bed with a new lover. It’s strange, I know, the passing of time, and the complications and contradictions that come with it.
These feelings are necessary, I suppose. I would lie to myself and others, tell them that I’m fully satisfied, but in truth, I’m frustrated that it feels like people are allowed to continually hurt me, continually abuse me, and get away with it, and I’m again left hollow and aching, wondering if this is forever. As the seasons change, my heart does as well. I feel a new seed planted in me, one of possibility and spiritual growth.
This new man, this new lover, he’s a complete 180 from what I’m used to. His hands are gentle, his smile is warm, his eyes look for the joy and pleasure in mine, his words drip into my ear like the sweetest honey, assuring me that I’m safe, and that he wants to make me happy. I’ve never been treated so softly in my life, not by my parents, not by any other lover, not by anyone. I always thought you would treat me softly. In fact, I dreamed of it, longed for it, and in the worst of our fights, begged for it. You knew my past, my upbringing, you knew I was a child abuse survivor, and you are one too…why couldn’t you treat me softly? Why am I only learning this feeling now, as someone who’s nearing 30? I don’t feel like I deserve it, this supreme joy, but….its just part of this new life without you that I’m still adjusting to.
How do you explain that parts of you feel full, and parts of you feel hollow? How do you explain that things were messy, things were volatile, yet….I’m still learning to live without the assurance of your presence? I know you still love me, in whatever way you’re capable of, and….I think I’ll always love you too. But, this was for the best. This is necessary. We couldn’t grow as we were, and now? We have no choice but to grow apart.
