Growing up, I have had many loves in my
life. They all varied, of course, but I know that when I was involved in each
one of them, they were all very significant. My emotions were heightened, and
it seemed like there was nothing more real or important in that moment.
Thoughts would go through my mind about running away together and have it be
just me and her against the world, and I was prepared for that.
Occasionally, I would write these feelings
down in forms of emails, letters, or journals. Every once in a while, some of
these writings would surface and in reading them, I would be transported back
to a time when I loved more completely than I ever thought I could have.
However, reading this after the fact was
something like travelling back in time. I would recognize that it was my
writing and feelings at the time, yet I was reading them through a multitude of
filters. Events happened, things were said, feelings changed, and the person I
was now was certainly not the person who had written those feelings down. I was
now listening through a resigned and cynical view, and for a moment I asked
myself, “What happened there? Where did that person, where did that love go? It
was so real, it was so vibrant!” And now it was simply reduced to a lot of
meaningless words strung together on a piece of paper.
I’ve also witnessed it though countless
weddings I’ve attended where the people were so in love and wanted to share it
with the world, only to have them break up later, and despise each other with
such a destructive nature. It makes me think how this was all possible, and
what the path was that took us all down it. A part of me wants to show this
evidence to my ex lovers and say, “Look how in love we were here. Is that all
gone now?”
I know that looking back at all of these
old letters and emails that I have blocked out much of the wonderful memories;
so much so that it surprises me that I could forget them so easily. A feeling
of sadness overcomes me for the loss that I have allowed to slip away, and with
it, the possibility of something that never was. I wonder what I could have
done differently, or how I could have been cause in the matter to make that go
towards a place of exponential love.
Yet, there these letters remain. Pieces of my
history that have now contributed to how I now see the world, based on the
events that place me where I stand inside in the present moment.
It is my choice in how I see these love
affairs, and how I allow them affect my heart moving forward. I could choose to
be bitter and angry about it, but I’m clear that this only makes my future
partner pay for the sins of my past, and not hers.
So, really the only choice is to be
thankful for this experience, and the time that I shared inside of that
wonderment called love, each and every time. -For I will always declare that it
is always more agreeable to love with all of your being for the briefest of
moments and then lose it, then to never have felt that love at all.
And in my journey of this life, I work on
this process everyday. It’s not always easy, but then again nobody said that
life would be; they only said it would be worth it…
And they were right.
You wrote the best letters and I always looked forward to the postal worker delivering a letter from Chuck.
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