It's been a crazy couple of weeks, especially as far as my love life goes. Few weeks ago I sent the man I love a message, ending things. We were in such a weird place and the communication had become zero. I felt my depression building to match the ache in my heart. Did I want to be without him? No. Did I want to sit around and hope he would reach out? No, but I had done so anyway. He means too much.
A friend of mine finally got tired of hearing me try to piece the situation together. "A man doesn't hide from you, especially a man that loves you. And you deserve love and to be happy!"
She wasn't wrong. I was decidedly unhappy, although that had more to do with the loss and the ache than the man himself. When an opportunity came to connect with an old friend, she encouraged me to take it, if for nothing more than to have someone around so I wasn't lonely.
Met up with old friend. Talked, ate great food, marvelled at majestic mountains, strolled through the city square under the stars - and when the move was made, I couldn't look at the poor guy. I felt horrible. The entire time I wanted my love with me, holding my hand, whispering things to me, pulling me in to be kissed, sharing my feelings, dancing barefoot with me on the grass. My heart, very firmly, said "No."
As I drove back home, I could feel the darkness surround me. The idea of getting used to being alone again after having my hopes so high seemed too daunting. I felt no small degree of panic.
Sometimes the universe can be cruel in its timing, as that was when my ex reached out. The lion. The one who's made me feel unworthy. The one who has had four separate opportunities to break my heart, and has taken every one. I was not prepared to deal with that, and said as much.
Instead of backing down, he whipped out the "L. Marie Playbook" and began pressing all of the buttons. I felt my defenses wavering if only because the idea of loneliness looming was horrifying to me. I let him come by. I cooked him dinner. I watched as he sat on my couch, talking comics and texting on his phone and asked myself "how is this better than being alone?"
It wasn't. When your heart belongs elsewhere, there's nothing you can do to redirect it. It was like having a clear night sky with no stars at all. A waste of time. My energy lagged and I began to pray in earnest for a sign of what my next step should be, whether I should just resign myself to loving "the one who got away" every day for the rest of my life...
I will admit that I gave up hope.
And when I did - my love reached out to me.
It felt like I'd relegated my life to one without colour, to having nothing but dark and cold nights. I couldn't get my motor running, I couldn't find the light. And then he reached out and everything went fiery and red.
I am confused. I am hurt. I am so in love I can't think of anything else. And I don't know if, in the end, it will mean anything at all.
But I have a feeling, a hope, a wish...that maybe, just maybe, there will be a star tonight.
Be blessed.
L.
