Sometimes I like to take a walk down memory lane and see just what I had to say on a particular day in the past. I guess it is one of the benefits of keeping a written log of ones life. But on a day like today, I don’t have to, because I know exactly what words I’ve had in the past. My heart is filled with so much and my want for love so deeply rooted that on a day like today, which someone has fabricated celebration in the spirit of love, it’s often too hard for me to face.
A few years back I wrote about part of how I feel on my main blog. That post was mostly about loving the people in your life everyday no matter what the calendar says. Loving them, appreciating them, and showing them how you feel through actions, not flowers or cards or stuffies or candy.
I will always feel this way and that sentiment is logical and pragmatic and perhaps even a cold layer of ice next to the spirit of recognizing and giving and receiving in the name of love. But there’s something flowing underneath the surface of that sentiment that shapes the edges of my riverbanks. The ice may be solid enough to stand on, but inches below the waters are not still and they run deep and they carry with them everything that has ever been collected up-stream.
It’s the memories of a girl who never dated in high-school, yet daydreamed about boys as a constant in her daily routine. All she ever wanted was someone to call her own. A hopeless romantic with visions of being carried away by her love.
It’s the memories of a girl who was shy, but fearlessly tempted fate time after time to get some attention from those boys. She never wavered in her feelings, even when rejected. The notion that it just takes one interaction, one moment, one look into someone else’s eyes to break the spell that had been cast upon her was enough to subdue the loneliness.
It’s the memories of a girl who married the first person she dated in college before she could understood the gravity of that commitment or even what a lifelong partnership would mean. It did not matter, her constant plea with the universe had been answered and she would do everything necessary to hold up her end of the bargain.
It’s the memories of a girl who tempted fate again to uncover a different kind of love by having children. The overwhelming desire to know that love and that life was so strong, the sacrifices were cast aside like they were nothing.
It’s the memories of a girl who tried to endure through her loveless marriage, but eventually had the courage to choose a different path and be alone again. Risking the comfort of everything known to discover what is unknown. Risking the possibility of having to re-live a repeat performance of the loneliness of her adolescence to awaken the hopeless romantic within.
And now, fresh memories, so new and raw and devastating. After five years believing this relationship was it. That it was finally her time, their time – as a team and lifelong partners, to be carried away only to be back at the start again. Alone.
It’s all sediment and rocks and driftwood in the flow of life. They tumble and collide and get stuck and break free. Sometimes I’m outside myself watching and waiting. I’m still that girl. I’m still that hopeless romantic. For all my hopelessness I’m still hopeful that spring will thaw the ice in my heart, so that I can embrace this day and appreciate it for what it was meant for and just ride that feeling to where it leads me.