Letting Go

I do love you. How could I not? You brought me to life.

I miss you sometimes. It’s been years. Sometimes I wonder if you think about  how many years it’s been. Do you even realize?

I do I remember our last time together. It was devastating. I knew then I would have to walk away.  I could no longer place myself in your presence. It was too painful.

Your words cut through me. At first I thought you were trying to be funny. But no, you were serious. Did you see how much your words hurt?  I think you were too caught up in the performance.  I don’t know what I did to deserve the vitriol.  But maybe you do.  Maybe  you did see.  Maybe it felt like revenge.  Was it sweet?

There’s a part of me that longs to continue our relationship. A part of me that misses our talks. Misses the insight you used to bring me. And wishes I could hear again how you love me.

But I know on some level you do love me, or did, in your own way.  What we had was good at times and I look back on the good times and smile.  Maybe it was enough for this lifetime.  Maybe next life we’ll do it differently.

There’s a part of me that wants to share all the gratitude, the good times, the current failures and successes, the hopes for the future.

But knowing the risk of being hurt, one more time, outweighs the desire to try again.

Someone asked me the other day if, when you die, I would have any regrets for not reaching out. Would I feel like there was unfinished business?  Would I be okay?

Of course there is unfinished business. But it doesn’t seem there is the willingness, or maybe even the capability, to finish it.  So it is irrelevant.  I think I will be sad, but I will not feel guilt.

I sometimes think I want to ask you for what I need from you. But I don’t think you’d comply. And then I remember that I don’t really need anything from you.  It’s just an idea… not a requirement for a happy and fulfilled life.

A part of me wants to tell you exactly how you hurt me in hopes that, if you knew, you would apologize, we could discuss it, and perhaps reconnect. But then I wonder if you already know and are simply unwilling to feel remorse.  I have no assurance that you would be able to act differently toward me, even if we did talk it through.  I don’t know what it would take for me to trust that our future would be different.  We’ve tried it before, to no avail.

Besides, saying these things to you would likely only be received as hurtful.  I don’t think you can not take it personally, without biting back. I don’t think you’re ready to hear it as love reaching out for reunion.  I don’t think you’re ready to hear it as sharing for reconciliation. Without blame. Without malice. Simply a desire to find peace. For us both.

And then I wonder again, was it me who hurt you first? Did you not know a way to reach out and find resolution? Was the only way forward, that you could see, to strike out and make me go away?  Forever.

Winchester House 2005 Web