Smoke Signals

It's a strange thing to post such "personal" outworkings of my emotions in such a "public" sphere as a blog, I suppose. But I feel like, here, I have a quiet space all to myself. And I feel like I am heard, even if it's only one reader who peruses what I've put down. And I have this hope that it might offer some sense of encouragement should another person stumble across this who is going through something similar. (You, beloved, are not alone.)

I guess, in a way, it's my experiment in grieving within a society that does not know how to grieve.

I was told today at work, "Don't think about him. Don't let it get you down. Don't cry."
I suppose that's supposed to be encouraging...

* * *

Only two days ago, I found out that the man I love(d) is planning on spending the rest of his life with another woman. It stems out of his concept of "making right" or "manning up" to his (not so distant) past mistakes. He said he loves her. A month ago, he had told me that he no longer had feelings for her - that he had moved on - and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He had asked me for forever. I told him it was too soon to ask me for that - but my heart had consented. He kept flirtatiously bringing it up, and I finally gave in - shyly, because it's a big thing to be asked for forever when you're logically know that it's too soon to be asked, but your heart has already said, "yes."

My first time falling in love, I suppose.
With the others, there had always been something nagging in the back of my mind - but with him...

I feel like such a fool. So deceived. So abandoned. So very abandoned.

(My friend found this song. It says it perfectly - almost as if he'd written it. And the artist is amazingly talented. How there are so few views and likes is beyond my understanding.)

* * *

It's hard when people continuously want to hear about the man who has made you so happy - but when he breaks you heart, they say, "Don't talk about it - you'll feel better." As if, not talking about him equated not thinking about him. As if I haven't developed the habit of having him on my brain and on my heart. (Maybe that's something to work on.) But, instead of being able to work through my feelings, I am shut up and shut out - not free to talk because people do not know how to handle the pain of others.
And that's a shame.

I understand that it's important to be professional. And I am trying my very best to do that. I am trying to leave my "baggage" at the door. But it's hard when people want you to be "fine" only two days after your world has been turned upside down.

I feel so upside down.

   I thought I felt pain when I ended things with him a couple weeks ago (and I did). It was frustrating then because I knew that I needed to do the right, wise thing and let him go so that he could have the space to work out what he needed to do. I hoped he would do the right thing - for all parties involved. And even though I said I had to let the dream of "us" die - I was nagged by a lingering sense of hope.
   I felt as though my heart had been ripped out when I heard that he was thinking marrying somebody else after he had told me that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. But when I heard him answer, "Yes," to my question of "Do you love her?"
...I don't know how to describe what I felt. I still don't. I just feel upside down.

* * *
* * *
He had told me that I loved him like Jesus.

He had asked me if he could have me for "forever." He asked if he could keep me.

He wanted to build me a house and a life.

He had said that we were a "#1 Team."

He wanted to take care of me.

He told me that I made him want to be a better man without me even trying.

He wanted to hold my heart. And he knew that he had it.

He said he wanted me to be his best friend. He said I was his best friend. And he was becoming mine.

He said that the way he felt about me was like he had felt with nobody else before...

He said...he told...he wanted...he asked...he planned...

And I wanted to be so good: for him and to him. I wanted to adventure with him, and serve with him, laugh with him, cry with him, even fight (and make up) with him. I wanted to support him and him me. I wanted to encourage him and him me. I wanted to make the world more beautiful with him.
* * *
* * *

Two nights ago, when everything fell apart. When he told me that he loved her...

I told him that I didn't want him.
And that's mostly true, I suppose. I am still desperately in love with the man whom I fell for. I want nothing more than for him to follow through on doing the truly right thing and then for him to come for me...
I wish he was here so that I could scream and cry and fight against him only to have him fold me into his arms and hold me as I cry...and then have him do the right thing even though it's so, very hard. Instead, I am left alone to scream into my pillow. Instead, he is convinced that doing the "right thing" is something which even text books in high school warn against.

It's wishful thinking - I'm pretty sure of it. I do not think that he has that strength of character. And unless God works a miracle... Well...

That's the problem with love songs and movies.

 I do not think that the man whom I fell for and the man who told two nights ago that he is in love with somebody else are the same man.

It's a terrible thing, breaking your heart in front of the person whom you love and seeing no response. I saw him flinch under my words and felt a sense of satisfaction - but also a sense of instant remorse. It's a terrible thing to see yourself throwing verbal daggers at someone whom you love. I would have been kinder to him if I could have seen some reflection or ownership of the pain that I felt - the pain that he had caused. But I was not kind. I wanted blood. I wanted his heart to break and bleed like mine. We are all guilty, in the end.

I told him that he lied to me.
But I'm not sure if that's true. He never verbally expressed to me with his lips those "three little words." He told my friend. He said it with his eyes. He drew pictures of hearts. He said it in the songs that he sent me. And I knew that he did. I do not know if he still does - or if he has consigned his pursuit of me off to the list of "things that never should have been done" with a deep sense of regret and guilt. But I believe that he once did.
It's just hard to understand. I don't understand how in roughly a month, he could go from telling me that I had a face he would like to "wake up to every morning" to deciding to marry somebody else - somebody whom he had told me he no longer felt for. It's not that I think he lied to me so much as I feel like what he said or made me feel has been completely negated. And I do not know how to process that. I wish he was aware of his heart enough to be able to explain to me his actions. I wish he had fought for me - even fought with me. I wish he had tried to make this right. But he knew that there was nothing that he could do for my broken heart - so he didn't even try. And maybe that's because he'd made up his mind to give up before he even tried. I never had a chance.

In the end, only God can fix this. And I am thankful for a God who brings healing.

I told him that I don't expect I'll ever see him again.
It's not that I want to not see him: I would love for him to fix this and for him to win me back. There is so much about him that I like - that I respected, enjoyed, and admired. But I expect that he has made up his mind. And if it was that easy to change - then I stand by what I said in not wanting him.

So, I'm just writing out my thoughts and trying to make sense of my heart; sending smoke signals up into the air - knowing that they probably will not be seen, but sending them up anyway.

At least I know my prayers are heard.
God, my loss is so deep and so great. You are the only one who can fix this - who can hold all the pieces of my broken heart. You are the only one who can heal me. You are the only one who can redeem this - for me and for them.

 Lord, have mercy.

What it seems...

"If it seems too good to be true, it probably is."

"Be careful, be careful, be careful. Always be careful."

"Never trust too quickly."

"Love like that isn't real."

It's an amazing thing, holding in your hand and in your heart that for which and for whom you've always wished and prayed - but never believed to be real. Love like that was in the fairy tales which moved my heart. Love like that was for other Christians or just other people in general, but not for me because I wasn't ______ enough. I had determined that my path was to be one of heart ache. And I didn't know why, but I had accepted it; determined to find the beauty there so that I could learn from my pain and comfort others who also found themselves in it.

I've grown up, my life shaped by watching the breaking of relationships and hearts. I was always told as the moral of the story of my parent's divorce, "Be careful who you choose."

Almost every relationship prior, I've been terrified at the outset of him leaving. I'm not afraid of that anymore. I'm really more afraid that one day I'll wake up like Cinderella after the clock struck midnight - with all the magical, wonderful, lovely things gone - and a return to my soot and broken pumpkin instead. I keep waiting for my clock to strike midnight because this seems too good to be true. 

And then I am reminded in Scripture where God tells us that He is a God who gives good gifts. And I can't think of a better gift than a man who teaches me about the love of God in his pursuit of me. I am learning about how Christ loves the Church, how God loves Israel, how the Holy Spirit works in the hearts of men and women; in the way that he chases after my heart each day - beginning every morning when I wake up.

And I am so grateful.

Here is a man who speaks the language of my heart. And he doesn't shout it at me. He waits patiently and whispers and coaxes - like a horse whisperer. I am not afraid when my heart is with him. Lord knows I've tried pushing him away - flashing the "I believe in _______" card that so often pushes men away. But instead of standing rigid against me or saying, "Well, I don't - so bye," he replies, "I'm cool with that," and then I know that I am safe to actually talk about it with him.

He says he's not eloquent, but he writes me the most beautiful love messages.

This man is a gift in my life. And he teaches me patience even as I make him wait. "Not yet," is becoming a phrase that I am learning to not resist or push against. Instead, I am joyfully waiting for when the time becomes "Okay...Now." I don't have to worry about fighting with him for my rights or my dignity as a human being. I don't have to worry about him trying to put me in a place where I am something for him to show off or otherwise follow around in his shadow. Here is a man, instead, who wants to partner with me; who wants to dance with me; who wants to adventure with me.

I now legitimately understand how and why people write love songs.

And I want to shout it from the rooftops: I've found him! 

I've finally found him!

God has finally brought "the one!"

I've found him!

But I am learning also that some good things are best kept close to the heart and treasured before being announced. Now is not the time for proclamation. Now is the time for quiet breathing and for storing things into my heart.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I started writing the above blog about a month ago, but I didn't publish it because I sensed that "Now" was not the right time.

It's amazing what can happen in a few weeks.

It's amazing how the fairytale can flip. In place of the dream-come-true is a void: a nightmare. And the nightmare is true. And just when you don't think it can get any worse - just when you think you can't feel any more pain than you already do...it does, and you do.

I'm not going to list details or tell any stories, but I will say that what little hope I had yesterday ended with hyperventilating, sobbing, uncontrollable shaking, and freezing up. Last night, my stress culminated and I threw up before going to bed - losing what little food I had been able to stomach eating. (I think that having to scoop one's own vomit out of the sink is a special kind of low, by the way.) 
But the Holy Spirit is gracious to me - was a source of comfort even then - bringing a God-given numbness (a sense of peace, calm, and exhaustion) when my body went into shock (the first time), and finally bringing me sleep when I made it into my bed after losing my dinner. 

I woke up today not wanting to move, wanting to spend the rest of my life curled up on the couch with my cat. But God, the Creator of the universe and the Creator of my heart, knows how to hold me. And He will bring me healing.

I have friends who knew I needed to get out of my apartment today. And although my heart is still aching, my body feels numb and weak, and I feel the threat of tears burning behind my eyes - I feel better.

I have clarity now.

As friends for two years, as someone who'd known the brutal beating that my heart has repeatedly taken over the past two years - he knew that I was vulnerable. He knew that my heart was fragile. I told him to take it slow. I tried so hard to do the right thing - to protect and guard my heart. I tried to be wise. I reminded him. I tried.

But he didn't listen. He went after what he wanted. And I fell for him. Hard.
 He may have felt love for me. I won't deny that. But, as I learned in acting, feeling isn't enough - you have to do it. And his actions were not and continue to prove that they are not loving towards me. In the end, sweet words and love songs weren't enough either.

He promised me the world. He spoke my heart's language. But his poor, foolish choices have led him in a different direction than where he indicated that he and I would go - chosing to "do the right thing" by another woman and leaving me in the cold. I don't see that doing right by me and doing right by her would be mutually exclusive, but he has made his choice. He has a bill to pay for his previous choices. And I will not be the one to cover the cost.  

I am thankful. Thank God he was geographically far away so that he was not able to take anything more from me other than my heart (as if that was a small prize). And thank God that I got out sooner than later - because I cannot imagine the amount of devastation I'd feel if he and I had progressed with a relationship further than what we had started. I literally cannot imagine - because the devastation that I feel now is borderline overwhelming.

I went to bed last night feeling like my heart had been repeatedly stabbed and then ripped out, leaving a giant cavity in my body where my guts had once been. I felt like I was covered in my own blood...and drowning in it.

On one hand, I feel very much like the victim - targeted as a prize. (This blog on the concept of dating as a form of hunting is really thoughtful.) He asked me for forever before he was sure that he was able to offer me the same. But I am also a survivor. At least: I will be.

Because, when it comes down to it (verb-wise) he did not love me. He went after pleasing himself. He did not fight for me, or respect me...or (ultimately) treasure me. He KNEW that I was so very vulnerable, and he was not careful with my heart. Intentions mean very little when compared with actual actions.  

And this hurts. This hurts like hell. My heart has been fully broken. But I will heal. I am already starting to heal. Each breath that I take is a grace - is a breath towards restoration. I am not okay, but I will be.
I firmly and fully believe that. That's why I am writing.

I know what lesson to have taken out of this: I need a man who will listen to me and respect me - acting in love to put the well-being of my heart before his own wants...

And now I have finals to go work on.