Four Weeks

Four weeks ago he left.  Many of his things are still here.  The detangling of our lives is not nearly complete.  I did say"take your time" after all.

But it's been four weeks and I'm still alive.

Most days I'm fine.  I'm good.  I'm....well I won't say I feel strong, because I usuallly don't.  I have moments of strength, punctuated by stark, blinding terror.  But I'm learning to live with the fear...to push it to the back of my mind and go about my day so that for all intents and purposes I AM FINE.

But nights like this.....these nights are hard.  Nights like this it's hard to remember that I only miss the man I WANTED him to be.  I miss what I thought was going to happen some day. 

I guess I miss having hope.

Five years of my life, blindly believing that things would work out.  Every time he said "You're stuck with me" I believed it.  Maybe he did too. 

I won't say it's five years wasted, because I have The Girl.  Not like I used to, but she's still part of my life, and I thank God for that.  Literally. 

Yeah, me and God, we're recently acquainted. 

I came across a Christmas card today.  My last from him.  It was three weeks after I had surgery and apparently he was quite fond of me back then because he wrote in it the sweetest things anyone had ever written to me.  All about how, while I was being operated on, he realized how empty his life would be without me.  When I found it today, I couldn't even read it.  I just gently put it in the trash.  If I read it I will either read it as lies, or if I see it as the truth I will not be able to bear the thought that a man could love me that much and six months later just leave.  And I simply can't imagine there will ever be a time whe reading it, just SEEING it won't cut my heart to shreds.  So I really have no choice but to throw out the sweetest thing that was ever written to me. 

Sorry guys, I don't have a happy ending for this post.  I'm going to bed.  Maybe there will be some happy tomorrow. 

But here's a poem.  I didn't write it.  But I feel like I could have.

After A While

By Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while you learn

the subtle difference between

holding a hand and chaining a soul

and you learn

that love doesn't mean leaning

and company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn

that kisses aren't contracts

and presents aren't promises

and you begin to accept your defeats

with your head up and your eyes ahead

with the grace of woman,

not the grief of a child

and you learn

to build all your roads on today

because tomorrow's ground is

too uncertain for plans

and futures have a way of falling down

in mid-flight.

After a while you learn

that even sunshine burns

if you get too much

so you plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone

to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure

you really are strong

you really do have worth

and you learn

and you learn

with every goodbye, you learn...