“I am at your gate” came the familiar message. By the time Sailor walks in, as he has every day for the past 5 days, I am ready with our wine.
Since Thursday, when we both realized that it was over, he has been here every day. Like a trooper, facing the storm – and it has been a storm, an emotional one that is – he came every day. “Cheers to my easiest break-up ever” I said at some point during the week and he concurred. It has been painful and agonizing, but as far as the battle goes, it has been… so very grown-up.
There was no screaming or cursing or accusations. There was no fighting or throwing of things or hurtful words that could never be taken back. There was no retaliation or revenge. It was all so very grown-up.
We’ve probably talked more in the past 5 days than in all our time spent together. We got to know parts of the other’s soul that were guarded before behind emotion we couldn’t dare share. We talked and laughed and we both cried. He patiently and quietly sat there allowing my acute verbal diarrhoea to wash over and through him. He listened when he needed to and talked we I had nothing left to say. He never angered at me ignoring his alternative point of view. He highlighted points I made that got him thinking. He absorbed my questions like a dishtowel, even when they came flooding from all directions and contradicted each other. He held me when I needed to be near him and sat far away when he instinctively knew touching me would be the worst thing to do. He never once raised his voice or got tired of it all. He simply sat there and took it all in until I ran out of steam, day after day after day. Until this afternoon…
I was midway through a tirade, a passionate philosophical purging of fears, shoving the road map of past relationships (the one I made last night) across the floor trying to make him see things the way that I was seeing it. Trying to make him understand the point of hopelessness I had reached and that none of it makes any sense and it would be irrational to even consider the idea of another relationship somewhere in the future with some sap who knew nothing about the carnage that represents my past relationships and what’s the point of it all then?
“Stop” – his voice came, barely audible over my own, but it had such finality to it that it stopped me mid-sentence. “You are not looking for reasons. You are looking for a reason to blame yourself for everything that has gone wrong in every relationship you have had. If you keep looking, you will find a reason to blame yourself. You will find many reasons. But it still won’t be true.” Those big blue eyes reached into the deepest, darkest corner of my soul “You did nothing wrong.”
And with that it was over. My tears dried up. My mind came to a quiet halt. The dark and broody storm that was my soul came through the eye of the storm and there was nothing but calm, clear water ahead. I reached a “Blue Skies and Sunshine” moment.
I didn’t realize it for what it was at the time, but that was when my soul knew it would be OK.
He stayed a while longer, we talked and laughed and exchanged stories and shared a drink or three and then talked some more. He left with a hug and a kiss and “see you tomorrow”. I closed the door behind him and for the first time since Thursday, I did not crumble to the floor as his car pulled away. The sobs didn’t come. The sorrow stayed away. I simply turned around and smiled – really smiled – for the first time in days.
I’m not naïve. I know that it this calm acceptance is not the last of it. I know that Depression and Loneliness will rear their ugly heads and Self-Doubt will soon follow trying to smear its ugly black inky ideas through every corner of my brain. I know I will still have moments of sadness and a question every now and then. I know that next time around (and there will be a next time around) Fear will come right along and try to take me off course. (In sheer rebellious defiance of all these mongrels I am sitting here in a dead quiet pitch dark house, all by myself, and I am able to smile)
But for now, I got my groove back.
The reason of my undoing became my voice of reason.