an open letter to the man I loved, still love and will always love.
truth is things are going great.
truth is things are a fucking mess.
this is where things stand here.
here’s the deal: you showed up and changed everything.
you left and changed everything.
it’s life. we deal. we always do.
speaking of how we deal … the truth is, you and me? we dealded. we said it all along. we dealded and pinky swore and all that jazz and then it all didn’t matter. even though that was the point of it all. we dealded and then it didn’t matter about deals anymore.
we agreed honesty meant everything. that we’d talk and share and express our needs and desires and wants and that we’d be there, ready to deliver as best we could for each other. we made a promise May 3, 2014. shit. we made a promise way the hell earlier than that.
truth is, we could’ve done better for each other. for everyone.
truth is, we were worth it. all of us. every damn one of us, on both sides, both continents.
the truth is, when things get hard I try too hard to talk, talk, talk. tell my story. talk my way out of whatever hole I’m in, no matter why I’m there. good or bad. looking back, almost every time things got hard, I tried to talk too much. explain. apologize. help. change. I was the talker and attempt-to-fixer, and to a fault. I know this. especially now. hell, I’m doing it now. still.
truth is, sometimes trying isn’t enough.
truth is, sometimes trying proves to be too much.
truth is that sometimes being quiet IS the way out.
but the truth is that sometimes talking is the only way out.
we didn’t meet in the middle. it seems we both said this countless times. truth is, a lot of stories go this way at some point. lost. we just couldn’t find our way back once on the wrong paths that led us off in our own direction.
quiet vs. talking.
shutting down vs. oversharing.
attention vs. distraction.
truth is it was all of it. both of us on both sides, depending on the day, week, month, year.
normal shit that got out of control, I suppose.
but the truth also is that all my talking and sharing and falling apart was not done out of spite or to hurt. ever. it pains me tremendously to think that my talking and sharing and truth telling hurt people in any way. this is me. this is my way of coping. this was my way to deal with the shock and embarrassment and heartbreak of being here. again. I don’t apologize for saying something. I don’t apologize for trying to help us. me. you. I do absolutely apologize for the way it was done. I will not forgive myself for angering and humiliating, as this was not my wish. it was the opposite, obviously. and I can’t take that part back. I wanted to fix. I was hurting. I was more than hurting. and now people are falling away from me and I have no way to fix any of it. it was over. I was grasping for anything I could. and I couldn’t hang on.
truth is I was crushed in every way a person can be. for so many reasons. but mostly for what could’ve and should’ve been. for what was.
truth is I fucked that all up.
truth is I’ll live with that decision the rest of my life.
truth is we all live with the decisions we make. me with mine. you with yours, I assume.
the process is moving along for us all. ups and downs. one minute, everyone is laughing. next minute, hiding the tears welling up.
today is Chinese New Year. Little Man wanted to order Chinese. I thought of you and your dumplings. soup.
but the truth is, nobody’s chicken fried rice can beat yours. we talked about it over dinner. the food was not good today. flavorless. (I, we, thank you for spoiling us with good food made with love.) we talked about you. we talked about your food and your way with making a silly dinner so damn good. nobody does it better.
and we talked as if we’d never see you again.
another dip down, right after the upswing of a good memory.
and this is how we will move on, constantly with ups and downs.
which brings me to this.
some experts believe that going through the grieving process after losing someone you love looks something like this:
you start out OK, then shit hits the fan and you’re on the floor, sobbing, gasping for breath and answers. then, eventually you’ll find yourself on the upswing and then, I suppose at some point you’re back on your way to a new normal. this could take months. could take years. for some, it takes a lifetime.
but the truth is a lot uglier than that, according the grief counselor I saw on Valentine’s Day, on the 6-year anniversary of the day I met (in person, on this rock) the love of my life.
truth is, he says, the grief process looks more like this:
and I agree.
this is way more accurate to where I am right now. and where I was yesterday. and likely will be tomorrow. going horribly. feeling ok. on the ground again. getting up. falling into bed in tears. laughing at a joke from a coworker and realizing: I JUST LAUGHED.
up. down. up. down.
here’s another glimpse at the truth:
one thing that happens can have a positive and negative effect on my mind, my heart, my soul.
I would think this is normal for all of us.
but I wanted you to know.
I wanted to go get ramen today. that’s all it took. stabbed me in the heart.
“that was a perfect idea,” you told me just what? a couple weeks ago? … on what would be, I think, our last “date” together. it was perfect. warm soup on a cold, shitty night.
we miss you.
truth is, we always will.
truth is, I know it’s not enough and never will be.
and the truth is that has to be OK.
much love to you and yours. always & forever.
polar bears. always polar bears.
edit: I wrote this to show not only you, but others as well, that no matter how much we all work on things, sometimes it isn’t going to work. and while it hurts like hell, we know it’s not going to hurt forever. we do what we can to get by. we struggle. we fight. and then we fight more, but this time, it’s to pick up the pieces. we try to do it with love and respect and sometimes we mess even that part up. no matter how much love we have in us, sometimes we do stupid shit. we all do. every single one of us. we are all carrying a load of some sort and dammit, sometimes we need help and want someone to give us some options on where to put some of our shit down. all we can hope for is that we all can lighten our loads now. and that we can forgive and find the love that is still in there somewhere. and allow it to shine, even from afar, in a new way, out of respect and compassion and desire for the other to succeed, be happy and healthy and stronger for all of it. I wish this for all of us. for all of humankind. I can’t change how people feel about me. never could. if I could, we wouldn’t be here and you there. what I can do and have done is take responsibility for my part in the shitstorm. and I can and will continue to throw love out into the world and hope you feel even a smidge of it. no matter where the road takes you. today, tomorrow & forever.