I do not want my sorrow to be meaningless, so I search my heart for lessons, to find meaning, to take some solace in this ending. I insist that this not be meaningless.
Dani Shapiro states, “The work of being human, of living a life of meaning, does not involve merely, say, hoping that our sorrows not be meaningless. Nor may we kind of, sort of try. No. This insistence is what’s called for, because only insistence will do.”
And so I insist. And so I search.
At first it was hard. So damn hard. I just wanted to blame you. You were the one who left, I was the one left, to face the space. I cried and cried that day, my heart, raw and vulnerable, burst open at the seams.
But in the days that pass, I have insisted. I insist to find meaning, to be grateful, to feel and be love.
And so, here is my letter to you.
Thank you, my love, for being you- your kind, witty, smart, thoughtful, intelligent, passionate self. Those first few weeks were amazing. Finding connection, seeing places of symmetry, discovering each other – it was delightful and wonderful. I would not change it for the world.
You gave me space to be silly and playful with you.
You gave me space to be quiet and reflective.
You gave me space to be joyful and loving.
I was so happy to love you and support you and give you space to work towards your dreams. I loved our nights of talking about our passions, of sharing dreams and hopes and wishes. I felt so lucky to be with you and find this space to connect.
How lucky are we, two people who can bare open our souls and find connection?
Thank you for seeing me and loving me. Thank you for being witness to my hopes and my fears, for being present as I struggled through my challenges as a human being. And thank you for giving me a glimpse of your challenges. You allowed me to see the depth of my compassion and care, my patience and tolerance for messiness.
Thank you for passionate kisses, loving hugs and luxurious mornings. Thank you for cooking me breakfast, leaving me notes and taking care of me in so many ways. Thank you for letting me love you, for letting me be vulnerable with you. And thank you for loving me and being vulnerable with me.
Thank you for showing me your heart, and allowing me to show you mine. It brought such joy to my world.
Thank you for hearing my requests and leaving because you knew you couldn’t meet them. Yes, that hurt. And it still hurts (because I loved you) but, I’d rather you be honest about what you cannot do, or be, for me.
And while I don’t know what happened, what shifted, I could feel it – I knew something changed for you. I don’t fully understand what happened, still, but it seems it is not mine to understand.
So, this is what I understand…
Thank you for loving me, and for allowing me to love you.
I wish you well on your journey.
And you are in my heart.
Wallace Stevens said, “After the final no there comes a yes, and on that yes the future world depends.”
I am finding my yes.