I don't know if the silence is a direct result of mine, it could be.
I don't know if the withdrawal is a direct result of mine, it could be.
But I don't think it is.
I think it's been this way for a long time and this is the first time I'm hearing it, seeing it.
I'm torn between becoming hardened and bitter and continuing to hope to be chosen. It's a choice I have to make every day.
So I don't talk about it, because what else is there to say?
I don't cry and scream and throw things, because what is the point.
I wonder what the point is in continuing to hope to be chosen in the face of all evidence to the contrary. But still I wait.
My phone doesn't leave my side because I'm sure you won't let the day pass AGAIN without at least a text. I'm sure you won't forget again this year. I'm confident in the midst of your day full of oh so urgent and important things that you will find me important enough for notice and consideration.
But at the end of the day I walk to my room, I turn down the bed, I crawl under the covers, I lay my head on the pillow and find myself once again seemingly forgotten.
I am so thankful for the rest of it. The rest of the wishes and hoopla. I feel warm and fuzzy and loved. But there is still a massive hole where you used to live and the grief washes over me anew.
I can't help that your silence screams the loudest.
I can only miss you and try to do the best that I can and hope you're doing the same.
1 comment:
First, I appreciate your ability to share the essence of who you really are right in the moment. That takes guts, even on the faceless interwebs where you can type it all out with no one to make eye contact with.
What I really feel I "need" to say though, may be crossing a line, but I'm not sure. Do we have any lines left to cross?
I actually felt the emotion through this post. I don't know if that says more about you or about me, but that's irrelevant. The overwhelming thing that was practically shouting in my head through your hurt and my own voices was this:
What if this really is all that's left? What if (name) really did forget again? What if (name) really is too busy to text or even think about you on any given day? Even worse, what if (name) made a conscious decision at some past point to actively not text or remember you? That's a pretty harsh worst-case-scenario, right?
But what does it *mean*?
Sure there are implications and ramifications and other such "ions" to go right alongside. But you have been living through this lack of communication for "X" days, weeks, and months. That proves that you *can* deal with it. Reading your archives is proof that, even when it's hard, it can be done.
For the present and future, it sucks. It sucks hard. Knowing you may never again have what you once shared with (name) bites the big one, and I totally won't argue that. Losing a big piece of our life always sucks, no matter what positive spin we put on it.
But considering the past "X" amount of time that there has been radio silence, would you really be able to pick up where you left off?
The overwhelming moment of grace "I" felt when I read this though, and I DO realize I'm not you, is today's text or lack of text doesn't change yesterday's history.
Not only do I mean that a "Happy Birthday" or "Hey, been a while, how are you" text would not eliminate the hurt of the past few months.
I also mean that not receiving anything from (name) today, tomorrow, or for the next year doesn't change the GOOD history, either.
You have come SO far in dealing with all of this and other crap. Just don't forget that the overwhelming YOU in all of this is still true to the YOU that you have always been on the inside. That good person who helped (name) through a terrible time, when everyone else ran away still lives inside of you to be there for the next person.
Memories of people who are no longer a part of our lives are always bittersweet. Just don't let the bitter overrule the sweet. Whatever causes the shift or break always sucks. Whatever happens after always sucks. All the suck in the world doesn't change how great things were before the shift, though.
You may just now be seeing/realizing the dynamic of the relationship has always been you putting in more effort than (name). That doesn't matter. You may no longer be willing to put that effort in, but at some point you were, and you were okay with it. You get out of things what you put in, and even though you didn't get what you needed through their effort, you still got a lot out of it.
Could you have run such a successful campaign with Washington Project without learning how important grace and unconditional love are through all you experienced with (name)'s troubles?
Possibly, but not likely.
I feel this is too long, and I'm unsure if it makes sense. I hope it does.
Bottom line: I love you. And (name) did love you, in their own way. The lack of love you feel now, whether seeming or really real, doesn't change what you had.
You have so much to celebrate, and 32 has a lot in store for you, my lady...
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