Ending Better

When my relationship with Homer finally ended - or at least when I finally accepted it was over - those two points being pretty far removed from one another, I tanked. No other way to describe it. Just sat in the bottom of the drain and fed that sadness everything I was or ever had been. I kept it alive like a pet for months by re-reading old texts and emails. Looking at his Facebook page. His Vimeo collection. Keeping the pain fresh became part of my daily routine. Yeah - I got that part wrong. Not the breaking up, but the processing of my emotions around that. I hung onto those because they were all I had left of someone I loved. Doing that almost killed everything that had been beautiful in that relationship.

Fast forward a year and a half to the end of the next relationship. Admittedly shorter in duration, but no less powerful in its scope. I could feel that hole inside me where Frank had once rested. I felt an acute emptiness every day when no texts came and when there were no more phone calls. I could go on, but even that little bit of writing threatens to swamp me - so I will leave it to you to fill in the blanks.

I was facing the same cliff. What had I learned? What would I do differently? For one thing I let it go. Accepted it. I felt all the emotions of having someone I care about decide we weren't going to make it and pull the plug (My brain understands that, but my heart is still a little rebellious at the thought). I deliberately deleted every text, every email, every VM so that I could not wallow in that place of the void. There were some lovely emails and texts in there, but they tied me to a world that no longer existed. So out they went. I know that seems harsh, but I know me. Know how I get all maudlin. I want to be able to look back and remember the feeling thru my own filters which will, over time, soften the edges a bit and take out anything that was painful or bad. I will remember the best parts of being with him. And I will of course remember the things that I learned from knowing him.

So I took a long walk down a very big hill and began the process of letting it all go. Gently. Compassionately. Letting the magic go bit by bit until it was gone. Then turned around and climbed up and out (a physical representation of pulling myself up the cliff perhaps). No stopping, I pushed myself to do it all in one go. I want that bright future full of possibilities and wanted to send a very clear message that I am ready for what comes next.