Hope is Scarred, Not Dead
It was my misunderstanding and I was angry. In my sensitive state I heard his sigh following my big sigh and thought he was mocking me. He has, not that many days ago. It’s not a stretch to think he would make light of my feelings. He has, not that many days ago. I was wrong and harsh in my incorrect assessment. He became infuriated. Nasty words on both sides again tonight. Second time in 3 days. It’s rough over here y’all.
I wrote I should let go, but forgave and found a new therapist after our last fight.
I wonder how many more days, months, years I will allow this cycle.
If you ask for a sign, get it, and ignore it...then you are the fool.
But you know why I am really angry?
Because I wanted to be held. I wanted a shoulder to cry on. I sat on that couch across from him and poured all my pain out and he never once came over to me. He says I can come sit by him or ask him. I don’t want to. I want to be held, and in the middle of my pain I want to be with someone that simply thinks to hold me.
Even if I think I don’t want to be held, I do.
He will not come. It’s one thing I know.
I started thinking of all the times he has come to hold me without me asking, begging (yes, I know), or making the first move to be held. I can count them, they are that few. The usual go to is something to avoid seeing or sitting with me crying. He hates crying. That’s a different story, and not mine.
You’re reading this and thinking I am without fault. Don’t. I am an asshole too.
I really just want to be held. Why will he not hold me?
Is it normal to be lonely in your own marriage?
Now feels like as good a time as any to revisit writings from a year ago. One in particular comes to mind, when I ran off to the mountains in search of something to keep me from the shattering truth: I had to leave.
I feel that again. I know that there is no coming back from this decision this time.
So I don’t make it. Yet.
We have another couple’s therapist appointment next week, our 2nd attempt this time around.
There is no fixing us. I don’t know why I am trying.
Maybe I have more hope than I thought.
Maybe I am just a damned fool.
I re-read this excerpt from my book below, and as I read the last little bit, I listened.
There is a reason that hope is etched into my skin in my own hand writing. There is a reason it is the only word in my handwriting.
After all is said and done, I still have hope.
I also just want to be held.
Excerpt from December 2018; Love Me, Please:
I climbed a mountain once, a snippet of the appalachian trail in Georgia. Somewhere near Young Harris. I simply pulled over and hiked a mile up and a mile down. There was still snow on the ground in some places. It was cool, but after a half mile I was pouring sweat. It was a fucking mountain. Steep, rocky, narrow path. I passed a few hikers going down as I ascended. And then I was alone. On a mountain. And then I wasn't alone.
Have you ever sat on a windy day and felt like their were voices in the wind?
I think i have heard her before. When I was a child. I had recently-ish, well a little over a year ago, determined a few things:
1) I have a higher power
2) I see her as female.
So, here I am on the mountain, being blown around by the wind, and I hear her. Except, I realize that this is not my higher power, this is something more. I know what you're thinking, damn girl, how much acid did you do back then? Just once, not by choice, but that’s not my point. This was real. This was sober. No drugs or alcohol, just me and my real higher power, grandmother wind. I learned more about myself in that hike than I have in my entire life. I fought hard against the truth laid out at my feet. I begged. I cried. She was unyielding. This was my path. just as this trail was my way up, and my way down.
Now you want to know what she said.
I was on this weekend escape to the mountains in between my birthday and Christmas. I had to get away. Marv and I had "officially separated," and he had moved out but I had to leave. I needed to breathe. I needed space. So I left. I drove, I walked Helen and bought fudge the first day, before stumbling upon an off season mountain lake lodge. A place full or romance and wonder, safety and comfort, a place I would have loved to go with someone that wanted to take me there. Christmas lights, soft sounds of fire crackling. The morning after a night full of many tears and naked solo sleep at this beautiful lake mountain lodge, I set out to hike a bit. I wanted something challenging, somewhere to expend all the pent up energy being in that beautiful place alone had stirred up. I tried Brasstown Bald but it was too foggy, so I drove some more until I found this off the road stretch of the AT.
And what did she say, grandmother wind of the mountains?
She simply said, very loudly mind you: Let go.
That's it. And yet, that is all of it.
Wait, wait, wait. I know, let go of what? The weird thing is, I knew exactly what she meant. As I type this it has been almost 5 months since that trek, and I am JUST NOW realizing how important it is for me to do just that. It was time to let go of the old me, let go of my marriage with all of its pain and resentments, let go of all of my expectations for myself and my family.
Yesterday, grandmother wind took human form. She approached me after a meeting and punched me not once, but twice in the gut.
She said, 'This meeting was about honesty, and you keep talking about the stuff you are going through. You are going through a divorce. That's what it is. It's a divorce. And it's not your fault. It takes 2 people. You have to accept that. You are letting the fear win.'
Fuck, y'all. That bitch does not play. I love her so much.
I have let fear win for too long. I am far too strong and magnificent for that shit.
Change is happening and I am in this for the long haul. I feel the growth, I see the growth, I feel all the little bits and pieces.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
From the Bene Gesserit Littany Against Fear
-Frank Herbert, Dune
What do you know of fear, young one?
Do you think you hold the knowledge of the universe in your blip of existence?
No, you are but a piece.
Perhaps not nearly as important as you may think.
Perhaps more important than you may think.
It is not for you to know.
What you know, you will know because you stay open to me.
You breathe me in, you breathe me out.
You do not think me, I am.
You do not speak me, I am.
You do not know me, I am.
And in all the ways you sense me, I am.
I guide your fingers as I guide your thoughts.
Stay open, and you shall know what you are meant to know and share for this life.
Be love, as you wish to have love.
It shall be.
For all is possible when you step out of my way.
Let go, my child, this is my job.
Let go and just be.
I will be right here with you.
“What do you know?”
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