goodbye hello…

This year has been like one of those lovers that you would not want to spend a lifetime with, but yet you know you will never ever forget.

It swept me off my feet, burned me, broke my heart, tore me with tears. I have been unmade, undone, and yet now I am more. I know myself better. I know how to love better. I have grown, gained, deepened. I have more heart. It has been a gift.

For all that I’ve lost, I’m not sure I would press undo if I could – because I am so glad to be the person that I’ve become.

In losing one love, I have gained so much more. There is so much that I am thankful for, and of course nothing that really is, is really ever lost.

I feel like I’m ready for something new, for the next adventure. I am hatching wonderful, ridiculous plans. I want to grab happy with both hands. I want to laugh, dance, run, fly. I want to fall stupidly in love and not fall out with it. I want to be close.

There are times when life seems to ask us whether we are willing draw a line, to make space, to say the prayer that lets the next day dawn.

Tonight I feel I need to sit with my silences and watch the old year die, to say some more goodbyes, to let myself lean on through the last sigh of this time of mourning. I have no doubt I will still sometimes stumble on sadness, but I want to start a chapter with a new name.

I need to sit with some stars, to know that I am made of the same stuff as them, that I have my place, my path, just as they have theirs.

So instead of heading to a party, I’ve decided to light a candle and head up the mountain with a bottle of wine and a blanket. I want to see the new year rise with a burst of firework flight, to hear it roll in on distant shouts of joy and delight.

I want to steal a little bit of magnificent to put in my pocket. I plan to seed it with a pinch of hope in new soil. That feels like the right kind of beginning.

Happy new year – thank you for sharing my journey with me.

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14 Responses to goodbye hello…

  1. Afterwards says:

    Amazing and inspiring.

  2. drgiddy says:

    Great post… Especially:
    I am hatching wonderful, ridiculous plans. I want to grab happy with both hands. I want to laugh, dance, run, fly. I want to fall stupidly in love and not fall out with it.

    Go for it!!!!!

  3. Grab Happy! Your journey has helped others ~ gratitude.

  4. May you plant the seeds of a broadened life, gathered from the losses that have grown you. Have a wonderful dance of silence and shouts of joy and delight, sitting on your mountain blanket with fine wine and the light of your candle. Wonderful thoughts to close out one year and bring in the next. Thank you!

    • Dear Growthlines, what a wonderful comment – thank you! My new year welcome actually involved quite a storm but I guess in a sense fighting for my sight of the stars make a kind of sense in itself!

  5. It is with great pleasure that I nominate you for the Kreativ Blogger award. You write with courage and with heart; You have helped me strike a rich balance. Your writing keeps me going, is always inspiring and has deeply informed my walk with grief. Thank you!

    You can find nomination details on my blog.

    One of my greatest rewards this year is YOU!

    Happy New Year my Friend!

    Jen

  6. nire says:

    i think grief makes us unexpected students and it seems as though you have learned a great deal through all of this and continue to do so. hope your new year’s celebration was a good one.

  7. John says:

    Very beautifully written as always!

    And I am right there with you in being more than ready to bury this past year–and for me it’s the two years that have preceded it as well.

    For me I’ve been doing time for the past three years in the shadowlands. For all of 2009 with my mom and her metastatic melanoma (she found the first melanoma lump on Feb 16th of 2009, and she died Jan 3 of 2010). And all of 2010 and 2011 because of my up and down, on again off again relationship with a woman (a young widow) who initially was the most interesting and thoughtful and loving and captivating woman I had ever met (think Vesper in “Casino Royale”), but who as time went on, became more and more undone and inconsistent and dramatic and deceitful and cetera, because, as it turns out, she has full-blown Borderline Personality Disorder—which is an utterly hideous and gut-wrenching illness to be around. All the more so because of how this plays out with her three beautiful kids, who I’m helpless to do anything positive for whenever she effs up her life and theirs and does something crazy and drags them along through it, and then cuts off all communication and contact with me. Lovely.

    So when you write about last that it “swept me off my feet, burned me, broke my heart, tore me with tears. I have been unmade, undone, and yet now I am more. I know myself better. I know how to love better. I have grown, gained, deepened. I have more heart. It has been a gift. For all that I’ve lost, I’m not sure I would press undo if I could – because I am so glad to be the person that I’ve become.” I agree, I reluctantly agree that it’s the same for me, but I wish there could have been some other way. Going through what I’ve gone through with my BPD-ex has been the most painful and gut-wrenching and eviscerating series of experiences I’ve ever gone through. It’s 100 x’s worse and more painful than losing my mom—and I loved my mom and still do!

    The thing is, the person I’ve become for all I’ve gone through the past three years has become a much lonelier person. I am much more open to listening to other’s pain, to being there for them. And I realize just how truly wonderful it is to have people in your life who truly love you; I was there for my mom every step of the way in 2009, talking with her, listening to her, trying as best as I could to comfort and support her and care for her. I stayed up well into the night sitting at her beside holding her hand the last week of her life as she was dying, and I was still holding her hand when she exhaled her last breath.

    But . . . if I were in the same situation, if I were dying of cancer, there’d be no one who deeply knows me and loves me to be there for me in that way. And to realize that is to be truly profoundly lonely and all alone in this world. Loneliness is not about not being able to get laid or find a suitable ongoing sex partner and a little companionship, lol. It’s about staring into the effing abyss and realizing that there’s no one here who really gives two shites whether you live or die. It’s about going through this life, this wasteland, and not having one other person who truly knows you, knows what’s in your heart, knows who you are, who has seen inside your soul, who “gets” you, and who has your back in such a way that they might actually take a bullet for you or go to every chemo treatment with you and hold your hair back as you puke afterwards, et cetera. That is real loneliness. . . . “Alone into the alone,” C. S. Lewis wrote in “A Grief Observed.” But he had Joy, her found her, and they had some time together. I know he would have wanted to have found her years earlier. But at least they found each other. And yet it’s what I worry about—that (a) I’ll never find my Joy, or (b) if I do, she’ll find me too late or I’ll find her too late, and I really would prefer for that not to be the case—that the love of my life finds me when there’s little precious time left on the clock—her clock or mine.

    And, yes, I also “want to fall stupidly in love and not fall out with it. I want to be close.” And I don’t know life is for you in this regard, but it’s damn near impossible for me to meet a woman with whom there’s that intellectual resonance and psychological chemistry. And God bless my family and acquaintances, but if I have one more (well-meaning, I’m sure) person tell me “there’s a lid for every pot” or “there’s someone out there for you, John,” I’m going to, well, I’m not going to do anything except smile and try to appreciate that they mean well, but that they really don’t know me or realize how long and how far I’ve looked, how hard I’ve tried (“well then you shouldn’t try so hard” “you should try to do stuff in the meantime that makes you happy, fills your soul, brings you to life,” etc) and so on.

    I’ve been blogging about my darker moments on my new blog http://www.loveandotherdifficulties.wordpress.com. Stop by, say hi, leave a comment if you have time and or interest.

    I wish you a profoundly happy and sickeningly glorious 2012!

    Kindest regards as always,

    John

    • Dear John,
      ‘A profoundly happy and sickeningly glorious 2012’ did make me chuckle – what a line, what a sentiment, though I will smile at it and still kind of hope it for myself. I am glad to have you stop by. I was thinking of you over Christmas. I am sorry to read of your loneliness and yet I am impressed by the courage you have to name it and look it in the eye. I won’t offer you yet another platitude or cliche since it sounds as if you have already had you fill – I can only hope you stumble on something that takes you by surprise.

      • John says:

        Ah, you are very kind to be thinking of me over the holidays. This was quite a doozy. I was thinking back to when I last really looked forward to Christmas and savored it and all that “good will toward men and women”; and it’s been a while. Not 2008, I was alone and no one to share the holidays with; my mom and my best friend were out of town. 2009 was my last Christmas with my mom, she was about 10 days from death; so it wasn’t much of a celebration, and again family and friends were all out of town; I went to Bar Louie’s (one of the few places open Christmas Eve) for take out and went back to my apt and watched a movie–probably “Die Hard,” lol. And in 2009 my ex- was just entering the picture. The week before had been grand, the but the last week of 2009 was up and down and all over the place; I just assumed it was because she had just lost her husband 11 months earlier and was grieving. I don’t think that was the case; I think it was par for the course, as evident by Christmas 2010 and now 2011. My plan is this, should I meet a woman this year with whom I an uber- and deliciously-compatible, I plan to celebrate Christmas at some point with her, at say the six month mark. Buy a tree, put up lights, the whole shebang. I don’t think it will be a relationship ender. I mean, I will definitely buy her something nice for this non-December Christmas; plus I’m going to assume that the next woman I choose, will understand and perhaps even delight in such a little quirk about me. How cool would it be?–Valentine’s day not just on Valentine’s day, Christmas in July, things could be worse for a woman in terms of what she has to put up with in a beau. . . . “You mean you really like this guy, have amazing chemistry and resonance and conversations with him, he gets you, he’s into you, and he’s great to you, he dotes over you, but still gives you your space, and the sex is positively out of this world, and he wants to celebrate Christmas and Valentine’s Day more than once a year with you?” That can’t be a bad thing for a woman to be around, yes? 😉

        Anyways, _____, my friend, thank you for the kind words and for not platitudinalizing me, though, honestly, I’d be curious to hear what platitude you would have shared with me, seeing how you have such a nice way with words 🙂

        I do hope you are well and mending, and I do wish nothing but a sickeningly glorious and deliciously happy 2012 for you!

        Kindest regards, and thank you for the very nice response 🙂

        John

      • Hello again John, I think the Christmas twice a year plan could work…brings a whole new meaning to taking sensible precautions.. but of course, if it works out the first year you will have to do it every year or she’ll think you’ve lost the romance. As a veteran of failed romantic gestures (the lolly I slipped into his pocket that he assumed was planted poison etc etc) I’ll be keeping my fingers crossed for some out of season mistletoe for you!

  8. John says:

    Ah, you are very sweet, my dear. But as for the twice a year Christmas and Valentine’s, keep in mind you are talking to a guy who is more and more hard-wiring himself to be incapable of taking life or others for granted anymore, a guy who truly wants to get it through his thick but adorable skull that life is uncertain, as is health, and so the proper response to all of this is to love those that one love’s more passionately and deeply–and to be very mindful of how quickly things can change or turn for the worse. In this light, Christmas and Valentine’s only twice a year seems like I may be getting off easy, lol 🙂

  9. Theog says:

    Wonderful really wish I could introduce you to my son I love the way your mind works you are FABULOUS!!!!!

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