That is the question that is on my mind tonight as I sit here on my front porch. Where does the love go? In this blog I have tried to put down some of my innermost thoughts. My most honest, real to the soul, innermost thoughts. This post I am sure will be no exception. This weekend I have been clearing my clutter out. I am graduating in 4 days and I have been systematically boxing everything up. I have also been going through other things.
I have boxes of books and an entire desk in the basement of things to go through. I went through most of it. Then I hit the lower left hand drawer. Folders and folders of school things. I could pitch most of it, thankfully. Then I hit the back of the drawer. The mother lode.
The mother lode of baggage, if you will. In the back of the drawer held a cache of letters and cards from my ex. I had utterly forgotten about it even being there. I would be lying if I said it didn’t effect me. It does not anger me. For a long time most everything surrounding that did. However, I got over my ex a long time ago. Mainly I just realized that it wasn’t worth the spent anger. Tonight though I think I am just confused.
I could not help but to open some of the letters and read them. It was like a timeline of the relationship. Starting out as friends and then you could see the relationship growing. I think what has me confused is how do you go from ” You’re all I need” to “I need you to not be around”? How does that happen in a relationship? I didn’t understand it then and I have to admit four years later I am still nowhere close to figuring that out. Don’t get me wrong. I am not hankering for my ex. I DO NOT miss the relationship, and I have less than zero desire to have it back. I am so much better off now, it’s not even funny.
Reading these old letters has me pondering: how you can spend so long growing and nurturing a relationship to only have it bust? How does a person go from claiming such a strong love to passionately believing the opposite? How does a person change their feelings about someone that they supposedly care about so deeply; someone who saw them through such awfulness, and the nightmares of their life. I can’t lie, the letters don’t make me upset as in angry, but they sicken me. They make me nauseous. The realization of how vulnerable I allowed myself to be, makes me queasy. It makes me want to plant my feet firmly on the ground and close up shop, never to feel that hurt again. This is such a hard thing for me to say, but in this moment right now it is my honest and truest feelings.
For so long, I have been focused on planting only the roots that would allow me to grow the wings to let me fly. These roots – these feelings – are not the same kind of root. These are the kind of roots that are an emotional anchor. Right now my life is about going places and making my life worth something. To be helpful to others, and to do what is meant for me to do. Having these roots anchor me, will sink me fast. I know that. They brought back a lot of pain, the kind of pain that hurts your heart, and for a few seconds takes your breath away.
God, why did I save these things? I remember going through the discussion with friends, should I keep them or toss them? Many folks said keep them. One woman in fact said I should keep them because “I never knew if I would ever find a love like that again, and I should have something to remember it by”. In hindsight I should have said you are right, I will find better and I can start now by dumping these. The thing is when I look at this pile, I don’t remember the love. I have forgotten that part. I suppose that is a blessing, otherwise it would hurt more.
The bright side to all of this, is that I will hopefully feel better about it in the morning. I will realize that the emotions I spent here wasn’t worth it, and that this bit of realization was just a bump in the road. The dark side will getting through tonight, and lamenting the fact that I am not allowed to burn inside the city limits.