I am doing it, staying strong. Not just trying, but man it's hard, the words he sends like knives to my heart and weights to my shoulders. I keep reminding myself it's not my responsibility, but each message buries my strength more and more. The assumptions of my reasoning, the explanations of the last talk, the subconscious (and explicit at times) heaviness of each letter... How do I trust?
I guess that's exactly what this is about: trust.
Trust that at one point it will be ok, trust that he's as wise, capable and strong as I've seen him to be countless times, trust that this is the best for us also in the hope for a future in which we are in each other's lives in some way, trust him and trust myself too.
And trust that the universe will bring him the support, healing and love he needs. And that once he confronts the much needed depths, the universe will bring him the love that will make him truly happy and full. He deserves much love, but I know from experience that we have to work inside ourselves to get the better love. As I see my timeline of love, in the last years of eye-opening healing and consciousness, I've had much healthier relationships than in the past, no matter if they ended or not, during them I could see the differences and feel the love or care that was there.
The main difference was that I learnt to know myself:
what I wanted and what not, what was good and what wasn't, the discipline to stay away from what I craved out of my own void and fill it up partially but mainly with my own my own self-worth, to experience it running through my veins and glowing in my heart.
Yes, at times it's better, at others it's worst, but since I've opened my eyes, healed, believed and trusted myself, the love I've gotten from the outside has been more real and fulfilling, or is it that I can see it, feel it better?
In either case I need to trust, trust, trust. The strong and capable soul, heart and mind that he is, as well as my own sober mind deciding to keep some distance for a while and trust whatever comes my way.
Yes I'm terrified, yes I miss him like hell, yes I love him, yes I care, yes I'm scared of all he said, yes I'm sad, yes I'm haunted by the memories, especially that one perfect London trip... But I have to stay sober and remind myself of the other side to the satisfaction and perfection of what we had.
None did perfectly, but I know we're flawed and real, we have issues and traumas, we are each on our own processes and journeys, our own levels of consciousness on each area of life and existence: an infinity.
I trust him that he will dare to dive deeper and find clarity, I trust myself that I will be able to confront the pains of my mistakes, and I trust that then we will talk and heal the wounds we still can't.
I trust us, and I trust that better things will come for us, together and apart.
And as I cry with each word he's sent, I hold on to myself, like my tattoo shows, and trust in the blue triangle on my right arm, that there are better things to come if one's willing to open our minds, hearts and souls to oneself.
We know confrontation could bring loads of good, but we couldn't confront healthily. Yet I will tattoo the confidence he had that completely unconscious night, to remind myself of the beauty of us and to trust blindly in myself as he did then, without regret, without doubts, fully.
I trust me, I trust him, I trust. Healing will come, healing has already arrived, whether seen or not. Things will get better and pass, and sooner than later, we will be able to talk looking eye to eye, wounds cleaned and closed, loving scars showing our strength.
I wish him in my life and trust that this processes are key for that.
I am choosing to trust.
