it becomes annoying how like clockwork ‘this’ is.
‘this’ being the pattern of my finally deciding to sever something only to have it immediately waken when i do.
i just got an email from someone who, frankly, i never expected to hear from again.
i had just gotten to the point where thinking about them didn’t bring an immediate ache.
i had just gotten to the point where i didn’t have to be angry enough to hurt them just to keep from feeling i was going to shatter into pieces that could never again be found, let alone put back together.
i had just gotten to the point where i could start to see things less ‘black and white’, more kindly, and grant the benefit of the doubt without feeling as if i were being taken advantage of emotionally.
i came home from (literally) a day of interviews and horrible traffic and there, in my mailbox, not fifteen minutes before i arrived, was an email from someone i never expected to hear from again.
and, as usual, they claimed they weren’t trying to be cruel and they ‘wanted to explain’ and it would be a few days while they manage it, but to look for another email.
can there possibly be an explanation that isn’t going to hurt worse than this already has?
can there possibly be something this person can say to me that will magically transform what is and make it less impossible?
can there possibly be something this person can say to change my life or theirs enough that we can ever enjoy things the way we used to with one another?
i think that’s the part that hurts the most. impermanence. it was. and while it was, it was such a beautiful, beautiful thing.
there is no way to make it as it was. anything that arrives will be different. while i am certain i can savor those differences, while i am certain i can overcome the wish to have it as it was, i’m not sure either is actually something helpful…. to me or to them.
it is a heavy thing to consider that someone you care for, someone you love, may well be better off in life if they didn’t have you around.
i wish i could say this was the first time such a thought had occurred to me. or that this was the first time my departure from someone’s life was an improvement for them.
love is being willing to accept what is. but i won’t lie, i can’t manage to avoid wishing it could be different.