A Letter From Self

And then one day, you just let go.
Like, wow . . .
And suddenly all is well.
Be advised, however, that the day does not always come quickly and the trips around the world do not come easily. But rest assured, a morning comes and somehow, the sunrise looks different.
You see yourself in the mirror.
You feel the need to “clean house” so-to-speak.
No more reliving old conversations or rehearsing what you’ll say next, if you ever see that person again.

And it’s not that yesterday never happened or that yesterday never meant anything.
And it’s not that the pain didn’t hurt or that nothing happened.
No, pains have their own memory and they fit into their own pockets of time.
I say this because pains tend to linger and wander in our thoughts,
I agree.
I do agree.
But life has a way that can be twisted and crooked like a dark road to nowhere.

And this might seem like a mystery.
Maybe . . .
And you wonder what happened.
And the answer is this –

What happened is time did you the favor of allowing you the distance between you and your yesterday.
Or to add clarity, this means that the past moved away and the soul was finally content enough to let go and be free.
Something clicked and yes, this is as simple as this; you woke up.
The bad dream is gone
You saw the light and something or someone you could no longer speak to, see, touch or feel was not able to grip you.

It has often been discussed and harbored and talked about by me; and this went on for hours in the late night solo diatribes while laying in bed, up and awake and alone and rethinking every possible “what if” question that came to mind.
I have butchered and manipulated and negotiated every idea possible and  contemplated the ideas of “if only!”
I have lamented over regrettable things which are gone and unchangeable.
And to what avail?
These are the thoughts that kept us back or bound to an unwanted history.
Absolutely.

And, so, after the stages change and mourning the loss of someone who is alive and who died to you (or you to them,) a moment comes, same as the next morning’s light.
Somehow, in some way, time healed an unhealable wound.
The pain becomes numbed to a memory that finally ran its course like an emotional virus that died into remission.

This is life. 
And rest assured, no one gets out alive.
So, live now.
Or suffer the consequences.

There is no reason to brutalize oneself or to dissect and rethink every decision with hopes to find some kind of accountability.
Sometimes the only answer is the simple answer which is certain things are not and were never meant to be.
Another answer is the famous “lesson learned,” idea. This is when you realize your time is far more valuable than wasting your attention on the past.
And yes. I understand the need to have accountability or to know what went wrong.
I understand why rejection stings. I am you and you are me.
I get this.

But in the end, nothing restores your time or makes sense of the past. Nothing can dig back and refill the empty void which swarmed with pain or the ideas of rejection.
A time comes when you feel better.
You move on.
You stop opening the old wounds and you stop replaying the old tapes and conversations in your head.

You realize, hey, it’s okay.

And yes. I do agree that it is figuratively, literally and physically possible to die from a broken heart. I do believe that there are certain pains that are unanswerable by any relief and that in your despair, it is situationally and clinically impossible to feel better or to see in a better light.

It is an amazing feat to determine and define someone as the love of your life.
Or at least, this is what I believe.
However, it is equally disappointing to find that your determination became untrue, and that lies and deceit were buried in the underbelly of their promises.
This hurts.
It hurts to learn that your assumptions of this person or your assumptions of anyone were inaccurate and that their agenda was not fair or true.

And yes, they were the love of your life
once. . . .
That is and until, of course, your real life began and thus, somehow, you were alive and reborn 
(again.)

I do not argue the paths of fate or the turns that destiny takes.
I do not argue Shakespeare when he had Romeo scream, “I am fortune’s fool!”
I do not deny that life is filled with living deaths and disappointments.
But ah, there is and will be a time when the sun comes up and the past is gone.
All that which is gone is gone
is gone . . .
is gone . . .

is gone . . .

I cannot and will no longer be fortune’s fool.
However, I understand the way we dig in and hold on when something goes wrong or when something ends, or something hurts, or someone walks away for the last time.

If it was meant to be . . .
They wouldn’t have let you go.
If it was meant to be . . .
No one would walk away.
If it was meant to be, fate, destiny, and the heavens above would always find a way to bring your life back together and make their point known.

I am not fortune’s fool
But one day, fortune and I will have a good talk and the sunrise you and I will see is going to be incredible

I promise!