Eek. A month + since I wrote.
The last month I’ve been letting my heart open and close, say hello’s and goodbye’s, and tentatively ease back into the world. The four weeks that have gone by held two of the last moments of the last 8 months. I was unsure of how they would play out, of how I would turn out, of how it would all clear out.
The first one, my birthday, I seemed to survive relatively unscathed. The people who love me and know me and do life with me surrounded my days with grand gestures and sentimental sayings. I was never alone to think about the what if’s and the phone call that never came. I was thrown into the beginning of my 28th year with laughter and love.
The second was one I dreaded from that awful terrible night.
But I have to back up because it may not make sense. With space and time I’ve come to see that there was a beginning to the end. Yes, it was sudden. No, I did not see it peeking up with the sunrise. But like I said, with time, I can trace back the roots of the moment a seed was planted. It began not long after I bought tickets to a football game.
Football is not something I have ever been passionate about. I didn’t understand the rules, the teams, the colors, or even that the yellow line isn’t really there. My lack of passion was a small deal to the (ex) Boyfriend because he was a collegiate football player. I was open to learning and he was excited to teach me. However, we never made it to football season.
On a sweltering summer day, I heard about these mysterious “half-priced Broncos tickets.” I didn’t really understand but I quickly devised a plan to surprise the (ex) Boyfriend with tickets. I worked around his schedule, shooting for the end of October, never imagining that we would never attend that game. I bought them and kept the secret for all of 6? hours. When I told him after his bummer of a day, his reaction was not exactly what I hoped for, only sending me into a frustrated mood. My attempts at doing something special seemed futile and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t excited.
So during that awful terrible night a few weeks later, I looked up with tear-filled eyes and pathetically asked “what am I going to do with the Broncos tickets?! I dont even like football!!”
Which meant that I had something to dread for another 3 months.
When I survived my birthday relatively unscathed I thought, okay, maybe this won’t be so bad. maybe i’m better? maybe.
I kept checking with my heart, asking it if we were in the clear? were we out of the woods? I stole the frantic pace and desperate questions from 1989 and asked my own heart. The silence was deafening. When that day came, when the night showed up and I sat in the stadium thinking about this night I had planned for him, for us, and the ultimate destruction that came from it all, I got so angry.
I got angry that he broke us.
I got angry that he wasn’t there.
I got angry that I wasn’t enough.
After the anger bubbled to the surface and eventually exploded, I remembered that I am a better woman today than I was a year ago. I remembered that I am a better woman today than I was 6 months ago. I am a better woman today than I was 3.5 months ago. I remembered that I am better for the Kingdom today than I was with him.
And he was part of that.
He was one of the best and the worst things that ever happened to me.
I love him for the good. I forgive him for the bad. And I let go of the rest.
So, heart, are we out of the woods?