Good Morning, my beloved.
There could be a million posts by this same name. I miss you every moment, of every day, when we are not together.
But the sweet smell of spring in the air on this amazingly beautiful March morning, make the missing you all the more potent.
On mornings like this, I long to wake with you. To share a cup of coffee with you over the news paper, and then sneak back to bed to make love with the breeze from the open windows skipping over our skin, and then languidly stretch out beside you in repletion.
I imagine turning to you and saying “And what shall we do in these hours together?”. And heading off on some small adventure. Everything with you always seemed like an adventure. Even something so simple as going to the grocery store, or pharmacy, or to buy cigarettes. It was the adventure of exploring each other that fulfilled me. Our thoughts, our reflections, our insights, and opinions, and observations. This is the adventure that never grew old.
Sometimes I wish that we lived together, against all logic. Because, I figure, that if we DID live together, you’d have no choice but to return to me at some point, when you’d finished whatever internal task you were working at. That somehow, I could help you learn to find the way to overcome your obstacles, to deal with the fluctuations in your mood, head them off at the pass, so to speak.
If you but had time to get yourself into a daily pattern with me. Know that there was no rushed deadline you had to meet, to squeeze time with me in, because I’d be there with you, all the time. Even the most meaningless small task in our shared space, would still be together time. And you would have alone time, when I worked, or when I went out with friends, or to do errands and chores. But I suppose that this is unrealistic.
And arrogant. I think the demons that haunt you would simply find another way to manifest themselves. For whatever reason you try to push me away, repeatedly, has not been confronted. And may never be fully understood within you. It is self destruction, and fear. And it’s not just fear of love, or commitment, but a fear of your own success, or that you might never reach that success.
I wish I could help you to believe in yourself. I have tried, so hard to do so. I wish I could instill within you not only the joy of being able to see each small accomplishment the way that I see it through my eyes when I watch you. I wish I could instill in you the patience with which I view the obstacles that jump in your way, at times. The gentleness with which you need to treat yourself, the realization that it is okay to go slower than the peers you hold yourself in comparison to, on your road to success. That it is okay, to go at the pace you need to go, one day after another, moment by moment. That there is no time limit, that you can get there only IF you treat yourself gently.
I picture it this way. You’re in a marathon, but you’re running it with an injury. You’ve wanted to join this marathon, and finish it, every day of your life. But this injury has not allowed you to ever even entertain the thought of beginning it. And then, after a lot of therapy, and treatments, you got there, to the starting line. Your injury is still bothersome, it pulls, and aches, and stiffens, but you are determined to finish this race. So now you are faced with a choice. Knowing you have this injury, you can run this race at full throttle, full speed, knowing that if you run too fast, and put too much weight on that “bad leg”, that you can maybe make it to the half point in record speed, but then you won’t be able to make it to the finish line. The leg will blow out, and you won’t be able to finish, and perhaps, never be able to run again. Or, you can take the race slowly. Jog it, and then walk it, and rotate between those two speeds. Then, when you are in feet of the finish line, you can blaze through at blinding speed, turning to your spectators, and supporters, and seeing their pride in seeing you accomplish your life long dream of finishing a marathon.
What would you choose to do, beloved? The world has a certain percentage of amazing athletes who can accomplish incredible feats of incredible speeds in running such events. Not everyone who runs them will finish in the top ten percentile. And these are people who do nothing but train, night and day, most of their lives. But even they started out clocking in at a slower speed. Even they sometimes faced setbacks. That marathon you accomplished, for the very first time, could be your first, of many, if you but held back, and ran it at your own pace. Then set yourself your next goal of beating that speed by just a little. And each race after that, just a bit more. This is the race of your life, my love.
We all want to see you succeed. We all want to see you cross the finish line. But we grieve to see you hurting yourself doing it. Because if your final goal is becoming an “athlete” figuratively, then the way to do that is not by blowing your chances before you even get there.
So take time, to slow down..to appreciate one accomplishment at a time. Make sure that you’ve mastered the weight machine, and then the treadmill, and that you’ve managed to jog around the block, and then increased your speed by shaving off five seconds the next time. One step at a time. Know that you can, and will get there, but that you’ve got to take care of that injury, in order to do it.
God I love you. After everything, I still love you so much. It feels like I’m functioning on half a brain, because the other half of it is with you. It beats in all the hopes, dreams, memories, concerns, that I have had for you..all this time.
I don’t know how to separate my thoughts, my feelings, from you. You’re in every one of them. “I” ceased to be, when I fell in love with you..”I” turned into “We”, and now I don’t begin to know how to find “Me” again. And the problem is, I really don’t want to. Everything I did with you was so much more..wonderful, than anything I ever did alone. So much more pleasurable, and joyous. And the visions of the future that I had with you, can’t be replaced.
I still want to be there, when you cross every finish line.
I thought today, of how I can know that you truly did love me. That you haven’t left me for lack of love for me.
And the answer comes immediately. You treated me, all along, with infinite tenderness, and utmost respect. I have witnessed outbursts you have had on others. I have witnessed your tempers, and rages. And I have never truly seen you reach that point with me. You did manage to control your shadow self all the time with me. True, there were moments where I knew your control was slipping, but I could see how hard you fought to maintain it. And I believe that these long absences, are your attempt to avoid that slide into anger, and not victimize me by it. This is how I know that you love me.
And I thank you for that, Love. For never willfully hurting me in the myriad of ways you could find to do so.
I love you..I’ll keep loving you. I’ll be loving you with even my last breath on this earth. This I know.