starlet

it's hard to write publicly because i don't want to be dishonoring. you all will never know my side. not all of it. it's one of the reasons i've stayed away... one of the reasons i've avoided responding to all the loving gestures. i don't know what to say. it's too tempting to defend myself.

no one knows but us. not even hj completely. and no one will.

but i do have some thoughts that i've been formulating. thoughts i've gleaned from my own private writings. yes i do still write. thank you @http://thedonjon.wordpress.com/.

i've thought lately, perhaps i didn't hate my house. perhaps my grief was misplaced toward that whole other mess. maybe i hated my life in my home. maybe i was resentful about my situation and not god or ac or all the other drama i thought was the issue.

here's the thing... i'm not angry anymore. at all. it's actually a little weird how not-angry i am. when i take a step back sometimes i think that i should be a whole lot angrier. but i'm just sad. so deeply sad.

i'm not anxious anymore. part of it may be the fact that i actually feel like i have some say in my future now. i'm not stuck in the misery. i'm out.

this scene in mansfield park always struck such a chord in my heart:

"In my return back through the passage, I heard the same words repeated twice over; and, looking up, I saw it was a starling hung in a little cage. – “I can’t get out, – I can’t get out,” said the starling.

I stood looking at the bird: and to every person who came through the passage it ran fluttering to the side towards which they approach’d it, with the same lamentation of its captivity. “I can’t get out,” said the starling. – God help thee! said I, but I’ll let thee out, cost what it will; so I turned about the cage to get to the door: it was twisted and double twisted so fast with wire, there was no getting it open without pulling the cage to pieces. – I took both hands to it.

The bird flew to the place where I was attempting his deliverance, and thrusting his head through the trellis pressed his breast against it as if impatient. – I fear, poor creature! said I, I cannot set thee at liberty. – “No,” said the starling, - “I can’t get out – I can’t get out,” said the starling."

so i'm out. i'm free. but it hurts. oh so much. so very much. was it worth it? it was the only thing that could be done. if i could go back in time i would. i would change so much. and i can't. and now here i am. flying with a broken heart.



i ask someone wonderful, "how long will it hurt like this?" the answer, "it never won't hurt like this. the pain will just become normal. you will become accustomed to it." i love this answer. it is the case with true grief. it never goes away. it doesn't always feel the same because we adjust to that level of sadness. the loss of anything significant in our lives will always leave this gaping wound. it just won't always be so debilitating.