I am working right now, in Idaho. I had a beautiful, warm run outside today, and now I am cuddled up with about 20 articles to edit and a big cup of tea. Right now there’s a big, open space in my heart…one that can’t really be filled.
I am struggling right now. I am struggling in being away from the love of my life and my puppy and my home. And more than that, I am struggling with not knowing how long it will last. Or if it will ever be the same. I am struggling with communicating the way I feel. I am struggling because I can’t be heard. Most of all, I am struggling with regret. I wish I could turn back time, to a few months ago, and change some things. Change the way I act, the way I think, the way I trust, and the way I react.
It’s hard to have a big hole in your heart. It’s hard to love someone and to feel like they don’t want to love you back again. It’s hard to forgive, but it’s harder to wonder if you’ve been forgiven. It’s hard to let go and let someone just be when you spent every waking moment with them. It’s hard to create space when you have nothing else to fill it with. It’s hard to be told that you need to stop communicating when your only way of expressing feeling, care, love, worry is with words. I am a woman made of words, and right now they have no place. They live in that hole.
It’s hard to not know when someone will decide to open up again and let you back in. It’s hard to hear that it could be days, weeks, months, or years. The hole gets bigger. I wish I could hear, “In three months, it will all be okay and I will love you again and we can pick up the pieces.” It’s hard to want to give yourself to someone so fully and completely–and they don’t want you. It’s hard to be rejected two years in a row. Every Spring. It hurts. It hurts to wonder if the love of your life will find someone better, newer, or more exciting to replace you…to make a new life with. To go to Nepal with. To learn with. To have coffee with. To make love with. To grow your garden with. To play with your dog. To paint your house new colors with. To ski with. To build temples and gardens and world with.
It hurts to wonder if they will forget you, refuse to work with you, refuse to give you another chance to dazzle, to bewilder, to trust, to love, to laugh with him. I can do it again, I promise. But it hurts to not be believed. It hurts to say, “I will never treat you like this again,” and not be believed.
I am trying to learn. Trying to be peaceful with myself. Trying to feel the sun. I haven’t seen many mountain bluebirds lately. I fear sometimes that they are leaving me too.
Sometimes I just wish I had someone to feel that sun with me. I used to. And I don’t know if I ever will again.
Sometimes I see people who are in love–and not obviously in love. They are sustainably and truly in love. I had that, I thought. I don’t know what happened. I hope and pray every day that it will come back, or that I will at least know when or if it will come back soon.
We all have to have something to hold on to, I guess.