It seems the only constant in my life is God. He who has been there since before I met you. I prayed to God that if any good was to become of this relationship that he let you enter my life again. I wanted to do things right, and make sure we had God’s blessings. I waited 2 years and 200 miles before God answered my prayers, and so I trusted him and let it happen. I allowed myself to love you.
It’s been a tough few months for both of us. Like any couple, we were faced with challenges. Forced to work out our differences. When arguing, you would unknowingly hurt me by speaking in an uncaring manner and then go on to explain why I shouldn’t be upset. But ultimately, I was happier with you. I was happily amazed by your unique characteristics of humour, persistence, integrity, honesty, love and other so-called old-fashioned virtues.
But now since you’ve gone, I feel as though I still have something of you with me- or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that I lost something of myself to you that I have since been unable to relocate. Regardless, the effect of this is pulling and tugging at my mood; waves of mourning washing over me; sadness and regret prompted at times by the most subtle of stimuli, and at others by an internal cycle that is almost tidal, for want of a better word. Each memory of you is like tenderness cut as sharp as any knife. The concept of ‘us’ that I had dreamed of has now left this world and ceased to exist any further. I have tried to ignore the gravity of an invisible moon at my core in an attempt to move on and forget (it is the advice I receive so often); except I still remain so emotionally entwined to you.
I feel I have finally been convinced that it is not always possible to restore boundaries after they have been blurred and made permeable by being in a loving relationship; try as I might, I cannot reconstitute myself as the autonomous, independent woman I previously imagined myself to be. To focus on my studies and build on my career was a goal I initially wished to achieve. But now, something of me is with you. Perhaps you have no comparable experience, and if you were ever to read this you would be cautiously looking at me as though I was being overdramatic and borderline psychotic.
I feel as though my relationship with you can now only thrive in my head, as challenging it with reality might do irreparable harm. Unhealthy- I know. I can’t help but think that I relied on God for guidance throughout the relationship, and yet he has now decreed immense grief and sadness for me. God works in wonderful ways and I trust that his wisdom becomes clearer to me with time. Maybe you were a moment of mercy that God placed in my life temporarily; to teach me how to receive love and how to better give it to others.
I turn to the impenetrable love of God, the one who heals and strengthens our fragmented souls. The one creates both love and heartbreak. The one who ensures time moves in one direction. The one who created a woman out of a man’s rib, not from his feet to be walked upon, and not from his head to be superior; but from his side to be equal. Under a man’s arm to be protected and next to his heart to be loved.