It has now been 6 months since you left. I have picked up the pieces of the man I once was, but some were beyond repair. I had to make new pieces, in an attempt to be whole. The new pieces, as hard as I tried not to, have been forged from sorrow, anger and fear. This is not who I am, but I am stuck with these pieces as a part of my being. They serve as a symbol of resilience and hesitance; I barely survived this destruction of myself and I don’t think I would survive another. It is in that vein that I have accepted the hardened man I have become, I know that a love like I felt for you may never come my way again. Love maybe, but not the love I had for you, I don’t think I could let myself. I have come to terms with walking this life alone, it is an adventure of independence and personal strength. I am not saddened by this to the extreme that I once once, it comes as a relief to be able to see my future life without having to feel this pain again. I promised my heart to you, and it will stay with you. It is yours to keep, I can and will live without it, or at least try. My father, a man of few words, and even fewer tears came to tears the other day, and could not speak for a few hours. When he had the strength to speak again he told me “not to bury my heart too deep.” I told him “I will try”.
Ultimately the reason I write today is that I worry, I worry that it is entirely unhealthy to live in the manner I am living. Unfortunately I see no other way, I do not want to use the pain I have experienced as an excuse to be a cold and distant person, I want to be warm and friendly and helpful to all people, I just don’t want anyone to ever come as close to my heart as you once did. Not out of spite, out of fear and love. Fear of being crumbled once more and as much as I hate to admit it, love for you. I can’t shake it, I try not to miss you, but I can’t. I see you and I still get anxiety attacks, something I have never suffered before. I have been able to think of you less but to no avail because if I don’t think of you, I dream of you. I don’t usually dream or at least I don’t remember dreaming. When I successfully push you out of my mind, I wake up in the mornings having dreamed of us. But I am here today, happier then I have been in months, more sober, and more hopeful than ever, but it all comes with a shadow of worry. Worry that I won’t ever quite be as happy and as fulfilled as I once was. Here’s to more happy, more hope, and a future I can live with.
Cheers.
“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”
― Albert Camus
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