archiving an email to another for the insight it lent to me while composing it. the insight will remain undocumented, but i am sure it may be gleaned.
(edit to add — there seems to be some confusion in play with a couple of friends about this item. for purposes of clarification the ‘man’ in this and many recent items speaking of ‘the man i love’ is my son… someone who has been out of the frame for many years and, due to odd timing, my daughter, and many other things, is moving back into it. though i suppose it may well apply to several other men i have loved in my life. hmm. regardless, apologies for any confusion.)
interesting parallels. life runs in tracks, you know.
but we can shift their directions.
it’s weird. i too, have recently lost at love, and i too, was heading in the direction you seem to be following.
the thing that saved me was realizing that love isn’t about possession, or having what you want, or being permitted.
those things are not love… they are ego posing as it. everyone knows the difference. even you.
the man i love is happy in a life that does not include me.
because i love him, i am happy to know it.
i do not require his presence to sustain love, only to know he is well.
to love him does not hurt me, because i am not attached to ‘my version’ of what it should be.
do i wish it were otherwise? sometimes. but only briefly and only until i remember that wish is my own desire speaking… a hungry greedy thing that is not concerned with anything more than feeding itself.
does he know these things? no.
should he? i do not think so.
why? because the knowing would create that which is not happiness in him… and… because i love him, i want only that which will be happiness for him.
even if it means i do not get to enjoy his presence.
even if it means i do not get to have reciprocation.
even if it means this ache is known the rest of this life.
to me, the most beautiful realization i ever had about the truth of my love for him was that it exceeds even my pride, even my ego, even my desire.
because love is above all these… and as a Delicate, Beautiful Thing, can only be diminished by them.
the way you know it is really love is that it requires nothing to live and breathe as a peaceful, simple miracle.