I am sick of recovering from this.

All those stitches I had to sew in keep popping open.  Now it feels like I am squeezing it shut, holding it in my hand for fear if it breaks open anymore I will never find all the pieces.  I’m also holding the paradox of how healing this breaking open has been.  Some days the recovery is just tiresome though.

Recovery – “the process of becoming whole again, returning to normal.”  Also defined as “the action or process of regaining possession or control of something stolen or lost.”  I am trying to regain possession of my heart, or myself, trying to return to normal and become whole again.  This is mind-boggling because being with her felt like that return and that wholeness.  How do you return to something that did not exist before?

The year with her was the absolute best year of my life.  These 4 months without her have been the worst.  I have learned the absolute brightness and dark depths of love.  What the hell am I returning to exactly?  The world before her was so sad, even on the happy days.  The world with her was so bright even when it was difficult.

I found so much of me in that relationship, in relationship to her.  Now I’m alone and trying to hang on to what I had found there.

So I clutch my broken, but ever beating, heart.  I let the stitches break a little more.  I write.  I try not to lose myself in television because it only brings up the worst parts of being alone.  I resist calling her when I’m sick and laying on my couch in tears just wanting to hear that it’s going to be okay.  I cut drama out of my life a little more.  I make more space in my calendar and I realize the empty slots terrify me.  I lean in to love, to loving me, a little more.  I pray the light transforms me soon and sets me free.

I read the Big Book.  I pray.  “Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation—some fact of my life—unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God’s world by mistake.”

And I try to actually believe it.


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