Time and Irony

I was in this place many years ago, just over a decade. I felt like I lost everything. I had fallen in love, and I didn’t know what to do. I was willing to do anything I could to be with this person. I had an obstacle. The truth is I was not financially stable enough to suggest we create our lives together. I didn’t talk about that, but I knew in my heart it would be the most unfair thing I might do to her. She is beautiful and I loved every aspect of her.

We lived a private life, one that was becoming increasingly relevant to such a point that beyond our intimacy, our playful nature, our desperate need for each other’s eyes, that one day, I had to tell her how I felt. The sad thing is a phrase began to overwhelm our love, our passion for one another. “Is this all there is?” I would hear those words and my heart would break because I knew how much I really did love this person.

One day as I was driving to see her, I was going to tell her I loved her. I was afraid to say that to her because I thought it would harm the relationship. I thought it would make things too real for the both of us, but I had to tell her, yet, I was so scared I held onto it until the last possible moment. I said it to her as she was walking away, and she turned and looked at with a quizzical expression. i didn’t say it again, because I thought I had upset her.

I felt and watched our lives unravel after that night, it took a couple of months but in the end I felt like she wanted nothing to do with me. I had no clue that the love songs I would find on my voicemail were coming from her. At that time, there was no caller I.D. so I really didn’t think about who it might possibly be, and when years later I discovered it was her, I was broken by the reality of what I misperceived – a woman I was so in love with was reaching out to me long after I felt like I had contributed to our demise.

As time went by my life self-destructed to a point that I wasn’t sure I could turn back. I did, I found recovery, I recognized what addiction did to my life, and I focused upon being a better person. The irony is that with her I was a better person. I believed in the beauty and passion of life, because we both did – we shared an idealism I wouldn’t trade for anything.

Years later, after thinking about her in every step of my days, we encountered one another again. We found we hadn’t missed a beat. We told each other how much we loved one another, and we convinced one another we would never part in the same manner we did over a decade earlier.  Our lives were different yet quite the same.

I suppose the moral of the story is that we don’t have to change how we feel, we simply have to give time its due diligence, and maintain our hopeful idealism, demeanor, state of mind, peace. I know at least I don’t have a choice.

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