I used to believe that if you truly love someone, you should set them free, and if they come back, then it was meant to be. These days, I fight for love, believing that letting it go is giving up, and in that, a weakness. Today, I had been set free, and maybe in the future, I will taste that freedom, but what I feel right now is nothing resembling a bird out of the cage. On the contrary, I feel as if his love was never real. I feel heartbroken and betrayed.
They say that over 90% of couples who lose a baby simply don’t make it. The grief and the stress is too much. I thought we beat the odds. I truly believed that we were indestructible, because our love was just that strong. I stripped down to the very core, stood there completely naked, lowered all guards, and exposed my vulnerability. He then turned his head because what he saw was weakness, and I was meant to be his strong queen. He missed to notice just how much strength resides in vulnerability. He refused to witness the work.
How many times can one hit the same wall and not think to walk around it, instead of finally deciding to walk away? How can one love and not want to do the work to make it real and lasting? Relationship is work. It is a beautiful opportunity for our demons to surface, and with the gentleness of our lovers’ touch, we can slay them together. But work takes time, patience, and discipline. Relationship takes commitment to get through it all, even the shit that’s not pleasant. Isn’t that a big part of life? To find that perfect union that fulfills us and challenges us at the same time? But one needs to want to make it happen, to shift, and jump hurtles.
I have been labeled many things – a lover, a hypocrite, a child, an asshole, weak, kind, strong, sensitive, a yogi, an alcoholic, etc. The point is that I am IT ALL. I become one and then transcend to another. I screw up and I do things right. I am a deep, multi-dimensional being. And each one of these dimensions only desires to love and be loved. Why could he not love me in my most tender states, the ones that needed his love and support the most?
I am reliving deep pain from my parents. My childhood is swallowing me up and I feel helpless, floating in this space with no ground. Have I invested just way too much? Where have I lost all my power?
I don’t want to become jaded. I don’t want to stop believing in love. I don’t want to lose trust. I want to find freedom within love, not outside of it. But we all love so differently, speaking foreign languages, so where can we find that common ground? How can we really see one another for what is truly there?
And so the deep grief begins…anew.