15 years ago, my soul mate wanted to know that I would find someone
else if something should ever happen to him. At the time, I thought I
had given it serious consideration and replied that I was human and
naturally, being so, I would probably, eventually, seek out someone
with which to share my life. Being human, it seemed like a reasonable
answer. Being human, however, is not so easy, after all.
As it happened, when the love of my life suddenly died and left me so
utterly alone, and left my world so utterly fragmented, the last thing I
wanted was someone else in my life. It seems strange that we search
and seek out someone with whom to share our trust, body, mind, and
soul, entirely, thinking to live happily ever there after, only to feel so
betrayed by the whole universe when they die.
After entwining my life and world with his, it seemed an impossible
task to even find firm footing in this world, again, much less gather
the whole me unto myself and desire the company of anyone else.
So life goes on, the weeks and months turning into years of finding
out who I was without him by my side, in my life. With the disaster-
struck existence of us behind me, the dissolving of all the dreams we
had pooled before me, an ocean of which I had no way of crossing.
And trapped right in between was my shattered and bleeding heart.
It is a place no one would ever willingly go again.
Pardon me while I re-visit a moment in my dungeon and share with
you a terrifying event of the past few days. Three days ago, a friend
called and blurted out that my boyfriend had suffered a heart attack
and died that morning. This is not something someone with brains
would do to someone who has already suffered a heart attack. And
might I say, at that moment, there was an icy lightning stab that struck
my heart, right before said friend corrected herself and the name of the
person who died, and made the excuse that she always gets the two of
them confused.
I will never forget the moment of sheer panic that nearly knocked me
to my knees as I ran for the phone that day so long ago. When absolute
terror struck, it was as though I had been struck by lightning, but not hot.
Cold, an icy cold that ravaged my soul and split my being, as though in
his passing, he had taken with him each and every piece of me that I had
given him. And there I stood, momentarily paralyzed, the blood gone
from my head, and shot through with holes, trying to gasp a breath.
Some time later, I called my boyfriend and told him about her call, to
which he responded that he, too, someday, would die. Now, I suppose
this is all too true, but it is not something which I am prepared to face,
today, or any time soon. In fact, I had determined that I would never
go through that again, not after the earlier ordeal. I had determined to
keep myself safe from any such occurrence, and how I came to be in
this place at this time, under these circumstances, is totally beyond me.
I swore I would never again give my heart to another and become so
attached to someone as to permit myself to be hurt, again. One lesson,
learned, and never again. So, what happened?
I remember him coming into my world and loitering around the edges.
Next thing I knew we were talking, then he was flirting, and I was…,
well, I was flattered,… and intrigued that he was interested in me. And
he kept coming back, night after night. Then, I invited him to dinner.
Oh, duh! Why did I do that? I should not have done that. But at the
time, it seemed harmless. He seemed lonely, as lonely as I, and what
harm could there be in two lonely people spending time together and
sharing their company?
That’s how it happens, isn’t it? And it all seems so human as to be quite
natural, the making of one out of two. Then, it takes you by surprise
when mortality yawns its ugly head, and God makes you one, again.
As you can tell, I’m having a bit of difficulty with this lesson. I know
that it is not a lesson to teach me to stay alone, and yet, that is what I
determined to do to handle avoiding the pain. And I know that it is not
a lesson to teach me that there will be times to let go in life, of life,
because that is the way of life. Eventually, there is always an end.
Perhaps it is a lesson that teaches the handling of the pain of loss, the
ache of separation, the manner of grief. Of these things, I am familiar,
but admittedly, I fail in the managing of the handling. I am a passionate
creature, and my feelings run deep, and instead of accepting that I, too,
will die someday, I prefer to think that someday I will be taken from
those who love me, kicking and fighting, and screaming out loudly that
I have yet something more to do before my time is through.
Then, again, perhaps it is just a lesson to teach me how it feels, so that
when others have lost a loved one, I’ll know how they feel.
