Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote, in his poem “In Memoriam”:
I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
I sometimes wonder what Tennyson was smoking when he wrote that. I guess I’ve never known what it felt like to have never loved at all, so I’ll never know if it’s true. I have, however, loved and lost. So maybe anything is better than that, including never having loved at all.
I’ve gone through phases during the past six and a half years of my life. The phases have grown fewer and last a shorter amount of time than they did long ago, but they’re still there. Maybe because not many people see this blog, I feel ok writing about it. And I know I’m not the only one who’s been dealt this blow, so that helps, too.
I don’t believe in the concept of “The One” in regards to finding a spouse. I believe there are different people one is compatible with during certain phases of their life, and when you’re both in the right phase at the right time, then Yay! But if not, all is not lost. Like the summer rain in Florida, just wait a few minutes. The sun will be out again. But if there really is only “the one”, then I’ve already found and lost him. That’s why I’m hoping it’s just a silly concept.
I’ve been what I thought was “in love” several times in my life. Who hasn’t, right? But true love…real love…the kind that seems to define your very existence. The love that makes you physically sick when you’re apart. The love that makes you wonder if you could survive without them in your life. The love real love songs about swimming oceans and climbing mountains and walking thousands of miles are written for. That love I’ve only found once. And I sometimes wonder if I ever will again.
It’s not a pretty tale. It’s actually a fairly devestating one, full of sadness and wrong choices and betrayal and rejection (from both sides) that I will not delve into. It has marked my life in many ways during the past twelve (yes, I said twelve) years. And even though he’s halfway across the world now, and I haven’t seen him in six years, I still don’t think I’m completely over it. He was selfish and I was stupid. He was (and crazily enough, still is) my closest friend in this world. But I am forever changed.
I still mourn what could have been. I’ve moved on, but never really all the way through. Sometimes I think I am permenantly damaged. I guess there’s no way to go through what we did and not be. And I still go through times when the sorrow is overwhelming and the pain is deep and the loss feels so fresh. Silly, I know, given the years and miles that have separated us. But the periods of sorrow, like I said, are getting fewer. Maybe one day I’ll be over it completely. But I’m just in one of those periods now.
I miss my best friend. I miss my soulmate. For that’s what we are. We have both acknowledged it. And when you are separated from your soulmate, it makes a profound impact on you. I am forever scarred. Most days the scar is pale and shallow. But there are a few days, a few times, like now, were the scar is deep and painful with no cause for reinjury. Just part of the damage I bear, I guess.
I will love again, I am sure. But for now,
These wounds won’t seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There’s just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears
When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me