(man, they are really getting pushy with the switch to beta blogger, aren't they?)
How do you say goodbye when you aren't ready?
I am really good at goodbye when I feel the time has come. When I am ready to be finished with a place, situation, or person, I can say goodbye without a lot of tears and drama and walk away.
But when I'm not feeling finished with a place, situation, or person, it takes me forever to let it go. I can hang onto a memory for freaking ever. I am loyal to a fault. A serious, San Andreas-sized fault.
And I just don't want to let go. At all. I'm holding onto the prow of a ship that is sinking--has sunk really--and I can't bring myself to let go. I don't think I'd rather die than let go, but it all just seems so bleak to me. And that letting go would let everything just become memories. Memories are so easily reworked to seem better or worse, memories become faded and part of the background. Memories aren't real or present and they can't tell me they love me. I don't want memories. I don't want background or past experiences anymore. I don't want to sleep in this big bed with just my cats anymore and I don't want to cry every other day or wake up thinking of the past and I don't want to believe that I should just devote my time and energy to my career because my career won't keep me company when I'm eighty or help me feel less alone in this world. My career is no substitute for anything.
And even though I know I'll someday eventually find somebody else I can walk with hand in hand, my heart mourns the fact that it won't be him. Something bright and shiny, warm and wonderful has been lost, you know? It should have been him.
Why couldn't it have been him?