Closure.
It's not a secret that I don't sleep well or often these days.
That being said, I was awake until nearly 8 this morning. In the three hours after that I managed to fitfully rest, I had the most realistic, intense dreams that I can recall in a very, very long time.
In my slumber, I managed to work through five years of a broken marriage and all of the associated emotions therein. I experienced the elation and euphoria of a new beginning. I experienced the comfort one grows accomodated to after knowing a person so well there's almost no need to speak. I experienced the pain, the grief, the mistakes the two of us had made that led us down that broken path, the overwhelming sorrow upon realizing that what we had could no longer be mended, the knowledge that no matter how hard one tried, the other had already given up hope. I experienced once again what can only be described as death in my heart, the lump in the pit of my stomach that I could never seem to rid myself of, the endless evenings alone with my tears, the constant disbelief and sorrow that formed a path that seemingly never ended. Everything in my dreams felt so raw, so real to me. Everything in my dreams were actual events that had transpired. It was as though I were watching five years of my life go by in the span of three hours.
Except for at the end, this time, I had finally come to realize that everything was for the best. And that my heart, fragile though it may be, has finally been healed. Sure, the scars are still fresh, and if scratched at long enough, will probably bleed. But the glass exterior is no longer cracked and bloodied. There are now only three walls surrounding the tissue rather than an armory. The word "hope" has been etched into the door.
And I have an overwhelming desire to thank the man who broke my heart. Because without having experienced such loss, such sorrow, such lows...because without having the experience of having had you in my life, I wouldn't be the person I am today. The joys I am able to experience wouldn't be as bright without knowing the darkness on the other side. Sugar's not as sweet without having tasted bitterness. So thank you, Aaron. Thank you for sharing those five years with me; difficult though they were, they weren't always as bad as we make them out to be. Thank you for showing me that I can be my own person, that I can still put one foot in front of another and move forward even when my hallucinations show me that the only thing waiting to greet me at the end of the path is more darkness.
And although I know you will more than likely never read this: thank you for finally setting us free. I wish you nothing but the best.
That being said, I was awake until nearly 8 this morning. In the three hours after that I managed to fitfully rest, I had the most realistic, intense dreams that I can recall in a very, very long time.
In my slumber, I managed to work through five years of a broken marriage and all of the associated emotions therein. I experienced the elation and euphoria of a new beginning. I experienced the comfort one grows accomodated to after knowing a person so well there's almost no need to speak. I experienced the pain, the grief, the mistakes the two of us had made that led us down that broken path, the overwhelming sorrow upon realizing that what we had could no longer be mended, the knowledge that no matter how hard one tried, the other had already given up hope. I experienced once again what can only be described as death in my heart, the lump in the pit of my stomach that I could never seem to rid myself of, the endless evenings alone with my tears, the constant disbelief and sorrow that formed a path that seemingly never ended. Everything in my dreams felt so raw, so real to me. Everything in my dreams were actual events that had transpired. It was as though I were watching five years of my life go by in the span of three hours.
Except for at the end, this time, I had finally come to realize that everything was for the best. And that my heart, fragile though it may be, has finally been healed. Sure, the scars are still fresh, and if scratched at long enough, will probably bleed. But the glass exterior is no longer cracked and bloodied. There are now only three walls surrounding the tissue rather than an armory. The word "hope" has been etched into the door.
And I have an overwhelming desire to thank the man who broke my heart. Because without having experienced such loss, such sorrow, such lows...because without having the experience of having had you in my life, I wouldn't be the person I am today. The joys I am able to experience wouldn't be as bright without knowing the darkness on the other side. Sugar's not as sweet without having tasted bitterness. So thank you, Aaron. Thank you for sharing those five years with me; difficult though they were, they weren't always as bad as we make them out to be. Thank you for showing me that I can be my own person, that I can still put one foot in front of another and move forward even when my hallucinations show me that the only thing waiting to greet me at the end of the path is more darkness.And although I know you will more than likely never read this: thank you for finally setting us free. I wish you nothing but the best.
posted by Myth. at 6:46 PM
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