I’m going to tell you a secret. I was in love. Not some ordinary love. The core shaking kind. He was in my world for 3 years. 2018 until earlier this year. Most people didn’t know. Just a (very) few close friends. My family didn’t know. He was my secret. Secrecy allowed me to just be with him and be immersed in this unconventional thing we had. I didn’t have to answer questions about what we were, where we were going, future talk. Just be.
He was one of my absolute best friends. We’d talk for hours. Sometimes we’d just sit and stare at each other. We’d lock hands all the time. We ate chicken from Harold’s and talked about the deepest shit like it was air. Everything felt easy. We were like the breeze, as Jill Scott said. Our energy aligned.
We filled each other’s cracks and crevices while still allowing space for us to be autonomous and individual. We laughed until our sides hurt. We were vulnerable to each other. We could tell each other things we’d never told anyone, sometimes not even ourselves
One time we broke up and I sobbed for weeks like my insides were trying to break free from my body. A betrayal. Not simply because that’s not who or what we were. Small betrayals can feel like chasms when you’re that close to someone.
This wasn’t small so it felt like the Grand Canyon. We didn’t talk for 3 months and I felt barren. Like I had a gaping wound that wouldn’t subside no matter how much I treated it. Most folks didn’t know and those who knew didn’t truly understand. We were otherworldly.
One day I reached out because I simply couldn’t take it anymore. It was like the Edgar Allen Poe story-the Tell-Tale Heart. The sound of the beating heart was more than I could take. We spoke. His voice. My soul. We fell right back in as if no time had passed. My walk turned to a skip in a blink of an eye
“But our love it was stronger by far than the loved...Of those who were older than we—Of many far wiser than we — And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul.” ~ Poe
So you notice that I’m speaking in the past tense. My lover was a wounded bird. And there are some wounds that even love can’t heal. Soothe, yes. Heal, no. His wounds were absorbing my peace.
His wounds were making him behave in ways that were in direct conflict with my soul’s path. Not intentional or even obvious, but he was tormented. We drifted. I could feel it. The pull. I could have strengthened the bridge for us to stay above ground. But I decided to let it collapse. There was no betrayal. No final conversation. No fight. Just a definitive internal decision to let things naturally dissolve. A definitive decision to choose me...my peace.
I can’t count how many times I’ve come close to calling or texting over the past couple of months. Especially that first time he reached out. But I sit with the urge and let it fall away. Do I still love him? Oh my God, yes. But I also am confident that what is for me will not pass me by. So I live. I love. I sit in gratitude for experiencing what I did because I truly didn’t know that type of core shaking experience as possible.
It taught me that my heart is capable of opening wide. It taught me that I can love. It taught me that I can overcome heartache and the fear of heartache. It taught me that the universe is preparing me for epic love that lasts. It taught me that I know how to love m myself and choose myself and for that I’m eternally grateful.