“Just humans drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokeness.”
I found this a few days ago while perusing Pinterest. It held so much weight it literally took my breath away. I began to ponder it immediately and why it would have such am impact on my soul.
Words of course hold weight within my world always. Being a writer I hold vocabulary and words very dear to my heart. But these words were more than words for me.
I have experienced love.
Deep and profound love that resonates from the very core of who you are.
It was a love that grew over many years, and was a love I thought I would be apart of until I drew my last breath.
It was a love….that became stagnant and painful.
It was a love….that ended.
Moving past that love has proven to be difficult for the remaining pieces of my shattered heart. Not because I miss it, or him, or even because I ever wanted that love back. But because I do believe that I was in fact drunk on the idea that that love could heal my brokeness.
I have healed in my life from profound hurts. From life changing abuses and lingering defense mechanisms. I know what healing feels like. I believed for so long that the love I was in, helped me find the strength to heal those areas of brokeness. These days….I am of the belief that it did help, slightly. But that love was not the reason I CHOSE to heal. I chose to heal because of my own internal resolve to be better. Be more. Be me.
Almost a year outside of that love…I am now desperately seeking the inner strength to heal from the damage of those years spent within that love. To find me. To find what defines me as a person. Outside of that role as belonging to him. Outside of work. Outside of my children. And in keeping with my continued resolve of COMPLETE honesty on this blog…I’m struggling. I’m fucking up. Most days I’m okay. Some days I’m not. I want to hide within my defense mechanisms and shield my heart from hurting anymore.
In truth I find happiness in conversations with my children. Fishing. Camping. At length discussions with good friends over cold beers. In Harley rides, and drives through the country with the windows down and the music obnoxiously loud.
But at night, when the bed is lonely, and the warmth of another is longed for….I realize that I am not yet okay.
I will be. I will find my way. I will find me.
But for now I suppose….I am simply human….drunk on the idea that love may someday help heal my brokeness. My goal however, is for that love to come from within my own soul. To be deeply, passionately, and profoundly in love with me. And then maybe, just maybe….the healing will be complete.