This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our call I always give her a headsup.
The incident happened the night before our call. All day long, I was sure it would come up in our conversation, because it was so overwhelming, and so knocked me off my feet.
But during our call it was surprisingly easy to not mention it. And it felt good. It felt good because although I had lost a day to worry, I had not lost a day AND a coaching call with you, to this incident.
Because that’s what I thought it was. An incident.
It had the markings of the same reckless hurt I had experienced before, when there had been just enough outer circumstances to excuse the behavior.
Except the behavior didn’t want to be excused, it wanted to be accepted as part of the deal.
I should have known this time was different, but I chose to ignore it. And managed to use our call what it is for:
And boy did I feel mature for not hurrying in every aspect of my personal life, bleeding on a stretcher.
It was just a scratch, it would heal by itself.
Until it didn’t and I am in no contact with them, now.
The scratch was a poisoned wound that should have been attended to, for all those involved, many moons ago.
If they can heal, and if I can heal, from what this toxin has ravaged, then that is the best we can hope for. In fact it would be great.
We’re in a temporary no contact, but I do not see how our relationship will ever be …. anything.
Today was like the blow of all my heartbreaking moments all wrapped into one.
Speaking of heart: There was also a strange omen, the night before our conversation in which (I thought) we would be able to make amends soon.
I suffered heart ache.
I remember because I made a mental note, that I should not overextend myself in my work, should take plenty of rest, should take good care of myself;
Because at my age a heart attack is no longer a fictional thing. A few years ago, I was very aware of my heart being a weak spot.
Yet this felt different.
“Mental note, don’t work too heart.” I thought.
When it should have said:
“Mental note, your heart will be broken, beyond anything you have ever experienced.”
I never knew there was such a thing as hysterical crying. Nor did I ever consider myself a particular hysterical person. It sounds so 19th century.
And if you saw all the things I accomplished today, after a very long conversation with someone close to me who I absolutely cannot ask of to bear that load ever again;
Yes, if you saw all the things I managed to do, you would not have known I had learned new levels of hysterical crying heart break, that you would not wish upon your worst enemy.
But I did.
An unexamined life is not worth living
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