I’m sad. I miss Jon immensely. I didn’t think that we could get so used to each other in the ten days that he came to visit. Yet, here I am looking at the apartment devoid of his belongings, … and I miss him already. … To put things in perspective, I am deeply grateful that I have him as a partner with whom I have already experienced such growth. So being apart isn’t about something missing from my life; rather, it is about the deep knowing that I share something special and sacred with someone for whom I have grown to have the utmost respect. …
As I sit with this sadness, then, all there is to do is to breathe. And as I breathe, I notice that it occurs regardless of any effort on my part. I follow this breath all the way down, and I remember that this breath is connected to the breath of Life that breathes all things.
Lately, I’ve felt taken for granted. I think because people expect a certain level of “being there”-ness from me, that they forget that it takes something for me to devote time and energy to them. The enabler in me finds it almost automatic to want to just give support and encouragement, to find the silver lining. Then, I have to question my own intentions, because if I am giving away love freely to others, then there shouldn’t be an expectation for reciprocity. And yet how does this square with the idea that we all have a very human need to be loved?
I must remind myself that Love is a practice as much as it is a reality. It is consciously choosing to give. It is knowing that I, in fact, am not depleted but literally have the entire Universe to give away to others. It is choosing again and again to see the best in others, and in so doing, having my best self reflected back to me.
Every so often, I’ll have the experience that Life is “pregnant with change.” What I mean by that is that there is a sense of expectancy that is so palpable, that you can almost sense change upon you. Whenever I think about this, I think about the fourth Joyful Mystery of the Rosary: the Presentation of the Infant Jesus. Mary and Joseph bring the Christ child to the temple per custom to present their firstborn son to the Lord. The old holy man, Simeon approaches them with joy, because he is able to finally behold the Messiah himself. He had expected the coming of Jesus as foretold to him.
How open are we really to Peace, Love, Prosperity, Light, etc., flowing into our lives? Do we wait with expectancy, knowing that the goodness of Life is ours already, and not something that we have to earn? Do we expect that this goodness is already trying to make itself manifest as our lives, just as the holy man Simeon expected the coming of the Messiah?
My friend, Andy, and I were talking today about how neither of us like the term, “moving on.” The term just sounds dirty and dismissive, and doesn’t account for situations, like the one with Aaron, in which things ended on a good note and there’s still the possibility of a future together.
I prefer the idea of “moving forward.” The idea is more about headed into the future, being complete with the past. Moving forward is about taking things to the next level. It’s about putting one foot in front of the other, not knowing how the path will look down the road, yet with full faith that everything will be okay.
So I move forward, knowing that it’ll all work out. …
Loneliness, to say the least, is an unhappy experience. And it doesn’t help that I operate in a cultural environment that puts a premium on being in a heterosexual marriage model. By extension, the cultural message is to feel bad for someone if they aren’t in a relationship.
Is it any wonder, then, the lengths to which I go to fit in? I dress to get someone’s attention, rather than as an expression of my inner beauty. I communicate indirectly with a guy, because I want to test the waters but don’t want to scare him away. My self-confidence is often a function of whether or not I can make a guy’s head turn when I’m walking past him. … It’s insidious the ways in which culture and society have colluded to compel to play this game. I am told that my value or worth is to be determined by someone else’s interest.
Yet, I’m realizing, as I move through my healing process around Aaron, that I am “the One” for someone, just as there is the One for me. … I am already someone’s partner. And what would it be like if I came from that place? What if my self-worth and value came from the place of knowing that I already am Whole and that I have something to contribute to another man’s life?
What would it truly be like if we walked in this world with head held high as the kings and queens, … the “already partners” that we are?
The drawback to being home, under the weather, is that there’s plenty of time to stew in my crazy thoughts and have them spin off into unproductive trains. 😦 Yet, there was one small breakthrough that I had that made a difference for me and how I thought about Aaron.
Even though each of us has different attitudes about what we would want our reuniting at the end of four years (if it happens) to look like, I think there’s a sense on both of our parts that we will definitely not be the same two people who fell in love with each other in the past two years. I can’t speak for Aaron, but I know that there’s a part of me that had resisted the idea of us changing so much in the next four years.
After contemplating more this morning, I realized that the resistance boiled down to a fundamental way that the mind operates. Human beings, in general, are hardwired to resist change. We look to recognize, identify, and categorize things. We don’t like to have our making sense of something suddenly be interrupted by a change, because it means that something is unfamiliar… it means that it no longer makes sense. Nowhere is this more true, I think, than in relationships. We go through all the work of getting to know someone, because in that knowing, we become special because we know our significant other in a way that others may not. So not only do we resist the change in what used to make sense to us, but we also make it mean that we do not enjoy the same kind of intimacy we used to enjoy when we had that person all figured out.
Realizing that this mis-belief was operating in my consciousness, I take responsibility for the ways in which it has affected my interactions with Aaron. I acknowledge that coming from that belief has meant that I’ve secretly been holding him back, which is not what I want. I want Aaron to flourish. I want Aaron to soar. I want him to outgrow me, because it means that he really has succeeded in transforming his life, and that’s all I could ever hope for him regardless of whether knowing him or not leads to us reuniting in the future.