“There are plenty of ways to die, but only love can kill and keep you alive to feel it.”
Love and maybe Alien and some breeds of spider, seems like something serial killers would enjoy enough to find ways to make it work…
I found that quote rather interesting. I suppose these new thinking practices, healthier habits and chosen sobriety have kicked my brain on to a new level. See my healing is going to be a series of steps. One set by my psych was obviously a stint of chosen sobriety lasting a month but there was one other. One month of zero contact with a boy who caused equal amounts of smiles and heartache, most of the time those had little to do with anything he did at all.
So in my infinite wisdom, as with the drinking, I severed all remaining ties with him (overkill, me? Whaaaat?). Which in all honesty wasn’t much. We’d had a few moments in the past that triggered a hurt so deep I had to walk away more than once before. One time I was triggered so bad the result saw me sink to self harm again. A habit I had not engaged in since I was a teenager (Well forms other than over using alcohol in the hope my everyday pain would fade away…permanently.).
See my relationships with the opposite sex are complex. After myself and my family being groomed for years by a child sex offender and the twisted attitudes towards relationships I was raised with, I can pretty safely say that pretty fucked up is an understatement when it comes to being close to anyone.
RESULT IN THIS CASE?
FUCKING TRAIN WRECK! A train wreck, to say the least, I am still battering around my head trying to make sense of. However 14 days later, much like the drinking, the thoughts and compulsion to talk to him have faded. The sick twisted need for validation and want for an explanation as to why I wasn’t good enough live very strongly on. Dumbest thing is, I’m sure he hasn’t even noticed he’s been deleted from all levels of social media and that he hasn’t seen or heard from me. I suppose it’s a pretty accurate sign of how little my friendship meant. Our time in contact still holds so much value, and i’ll appreciate it always (i’m sure those little giddy butterflies I’d get just hearing his name will drown themselves in some neglected backyard birdbath with time) and will make for one hell of a story one day. I still feel uneasy at the idea that he is out of my life. Even more uneasy to acknowledge the prospect he wasn’t really a part of my life at all outside of a few fleeting moments and my big doe eyed thoughts. The story of how he was an instrumental inspiration that lead me to pursue everything I ever wanted will unfold as I reach acceptance I have no doubt.
I suppose this post is to say, yes I am following the path set forward for me to explore on all accounts. I’m not hiding from it and I’m dealing with it, honoring timelines and not skewing rules. It’s giving me a rapid rate of insight and deep reflection in ways I hadn’t previously conceived. Its a rather impressive phenomenon.
On this particular front though, I suppose right now I relate to a statement I read long ago, and it was to the nature of this:
‘I used to think losing someone I love was the worst thing on Earth, to realize they didn’t really care or value you at all. It’s not. For you haven’t really lost anything at all…
They however have lost someone who loved them fiercely, unconditionally and would have walked through hell by their side. That is the true tragedy and the lose is ultimately theirs, and theirs alone.’
I still hope he’s sitting somewhere, smiling his genuine smile, feet up with his queen by his side. I hope he’s found his happily ever after, whatever that means for him.
The difference now is, I hope it for myself even more these days and that speaks volumes already xX