Dearest You,It’s been awhile since we’ve talked. Really talked.
I wish we could sit in that café where we shared a loveseat; I rested my head upon your wide shoulders and you slowly inhaled the scent of my hair, kissing the top of my head.
Or we could meet in my car where I’d feel your strong hands wrapped in mine, your lips pressed against them.
If we were in your bed, I’d savor one last time the weight of your thick legs curled around mine, nose buried in my neck, chills cascading down my back.
Mostly, I wish we were on my sofa – where you said you loved me – so we could breathe in this moment of truth.
I’d look into your unsteady eyes, hoping you’d see my heart.
But you are in another state.
Across town.
On a business trip.
Picking out furniture with your new girlfriend.
Planting seeds to harvest with other women.
Fishing.
Holding her.
In a bar at 2 a.m., asking to come over.
****
You know I write to process, to navigate the unknown and become clear.
It’s how I face myself.
It’s how I face the truth.
It’s how I’m facing you.
My words are all I have to give you.
***
It seems only fair to let you know that the stories I’ve written in my life are changing.
The plot.
The patterns.
The characters.
You.
Stepping back, I see the similarities.
In each of you, I see the intricate ways you intersect in my heart with common themes of inconsistency, unavailability, and dishonesty all woven together with patches of vibrant beauty and moments of tender sincerity. None of it black and white.
It’s an artful, literary display of lessons spread across faces, across years.
Each of you etched upon my skin a powerful, repetitive myth.
One I am done with.
***
My whole being aches for a new story.
It is time to feel the steady pulse of my worth.
I am ready to consciously dream new patterns into creation.
I will weave words of golden flowers along my spine.
I will spin all your patchwork lessons into a delicate crown and place it upon my head.
In this story, I choose nothing less than love.
In this story, I choose me.
***
If you’re brave, come sit with me.
Feel my warm palms against your cheeks.
Hear me say that I love your wild, red flamed spirit; your blue throated wisdom; your radiant sun of a soul. This is how I saw you: the real you, your true essence.
Now, too, I see the tempered version of this you choose to be … and the dulled version I chose to be with you.
Feel my hands slowly leave your face.
Be well. Be happy. I wish for you all that you need.
…It’s time for me to go.
I have a new story to write.
Wow. Beautiful.
Gorgeous, truly special, as are you 🙂
I hope there is a new story for me and believe me I am trying to write it. I am still troubled about how he used me (and how I kept hanging on hoping for change) and is now having the life I hoped for with someone else. I also remember the early days where I felt we were happy, but there was always a feeling a not being loved and him looking for someone better than me. Not good.
Hello Becky…….It has been a while since you first mentioned the intended break up way back @Inya Lake. I watched silently and shared in your pain. I could not however get the words to let you know that you would be able to get over it. I have followed through as you go through your rituals to allow you to finally let go. I am glad you finally have. A big hug to the young gal from Golden and I. Much love and keep the beautiful writing going. Silper
Thank you so much, Keri. <3 Much love to you.
Thank you, Suzi. That is so sweet and kind of you. I am so grateful for you.
Sending so much love your way, sweet one. I can feel how hard that is, and how a situation like this can bring up so many old feelings of hurt within us. Sometimes, it feels to me, that challenging experiences can provide the opportunities for us to look at what is it we DO want. When we feel pain and hurt, it can be a blessing – like a little notification sign – telling us that things aren't going the way we want. This then gives us the chance to really feel into our hearts what it is we DO want, what we truly desire.
In my experience, it's taken actually allowing myself to dream and "see" other possibilities for myself. It's incredible how just doing that can be difficult – so many of us have blocks to this because somewhere inside us, we don't believe we can have a different story, so the old one gets played on repeat.
Sending love your way. It is my hope that you feel all the possibilities available to you. 🙂
Silper!
I owe you an email! Thank you so much for even taking the time to read these.
Yes … it was so hard then when we were both in Myanmar. I am so grateful for the kindness that you and Golden gave to Freya and I. And I still have the beautiful gifts you gave us. I'm very grateful for you.
Thank you for being here. I did not need words … your presence was enough. So much love to you and sweet Golden.