An Open Letter – It’s beyond words, it’s a feeling.

Your Grandma is in a home.  

My Dad’s words written to me, felt like they were hitting me, as I am reminded that the march to the death of those I hold most dear continues.

Over the past few years, her mind has deteriorated and it was determined this was the best for her own well-being.  It’s the hardest closing chapter of Grandparent’s life, that is my own, to watch yet.  I watched another closing this past year and I don’t think I’m quite past that yet either.  So much suffering.  Leaving quite the wake as it passed.

Valentine’s Day also passed.

I’ve been single for Valentine’s before but it’s funny how perception shapes reality. Despite it being Valentine’s and in light of a relationship having changed form last Summer, I chose to make dinner and get something for her the night before. I debated what to do beforehand yet chose the simplicity because when I looked back at times where I put forth “grand gestures,” it still led to some conflict or dissatisfaction, which then led me to feel taken for granted, exhausted.

So I went small, instead of grand, and in some ways, that feels unnoticed and it makes the ego within me question, wonder if she or anyone will ever see me, the real me, not through the lens of hurt or other men or projections or expectations.

I think I always have, which has probably hurt the most.  And there’s truth in it with others AND my own being self-critical.

I wonder if she or anyone will ever hear me.  If she ever did, if others really have.  In this case, I tried to show that I loved her from the start, wanting to stand up for her, protect her, take care of her, change myself to go with her on adventures, misadventures, whatever because she asked me to trust her.

I told her that I loved her many times in word and in other ways.  In intense moments since the relationship changed shape, I still share those sentiments because I can’t help how my heart feels.

But LOL, it seems as though, or perhaps the ego tells me that I’ll always be remembered for my failings.

“Not reliable.”

“Don’t communicate.”

“So difficult and complex.”

“Do you ever wonder if you should be in a relationship?”

Despite those words, none of that mattered.  What mattered was the laughter.  But for so long the laughter disappeared and it wasn’t just because of a long march to the death of a loved one.  It was because of professional aspirations, battles with leadership, and an inability to see me, hear me, as a human.

But it’s beyond words you know, it’s a feeling.

And life and love are meant to be experienced and present for 365 days a year, not just special occasions.  It’s meant to be captured fully in the moment, not in a phone but the status’ and the social media, the likes, that’s what matters theses days right?

A friend of mine from college, who is 32 weeks pregnant, wrote how grateful she was that her boyfriend cleaned the bathroom and how she didn’t need the romance.  I wondered as I read that and all the other Single Awareness Days,  the So in Love posts, the Love All, the Bleh, is it just a few that appreciate the simple parts?  Does it take a life-changing experience in birth and death to appreciate what’s there?  What does it take?

And that’s not to say that I don’t think romance is important.  It is and believe it or not, I think men want to experience it, the gift and the receipt of it.

But it takes two on so many levels.  How can I do it, if I’m exhausted, if I’m not inspired?

How can it be balanced when sometimes the levels don’t mesh, don’t mix, don’t add up.

That’s life, but that doesn’t erase the pain in my heart.  It never has and I am not sure if it ever does because the experiences are but salt to this physical wound.

Sometimes, I really hate life.  I hate that external things like holidays or work or whatever creep in and erase the effort that existed.  I am mad as hell that it took a big push on my part and death for the other person to see or hear or remember or whatever.

I’m not perfect, never was, have so many flaws that I’m working on each day but the truth is that I tried, and I tried, and I tried.  I may have also put alot into work because I want to be of service but I have also made these choices to take care of my small family in the pursuit of it becoming one and creating a union that could stand the test of time.

Sometimes the obvious isn’t so.  And it’s obvious, life can’t be done alone, even if at times it is lived alone.  And at times, it never felt lonelier than feeling alone in a relationship.

Brah, the past few years have been rough.  I’m recovering from a very hard 18 months and counting with the relationship evolving the way it did and the subsequent aftermath.

Recovery is an interesting concept but the truth is I struggle.  I am struggling every single day and I feel lost.

I struggle so much that people ask me how I’m doing because I can’t mask the disillusion or the sadness I’m feeling. So I try to hold it together, deflect, find ways to act along and build while I’m trying to find my way out of a taxing situation at work, that isn’t as simple as just burn the house and arise from the ashes like a Phoenix.

I look to hope but I struggle with disconnect from family, with its own burdens and sadness in watching one we love dissolve physically, and return to the cycle of the pain I’m feeling over this love, that I can’t explain it, hasn’t really been felt seen or heard.  And maybe I have to accept, never will.

It’s beyond words, it’s a feeling.

I can’t even really find respite in the world at large.

The world is quickly becoming the view of 45, dark, messy, turbulent, fake, SAD.  There are many folks expressing such emotions and that’s cool.  It’s a reminder we aren’t alone amidst chaos.  But sometimes, it’d be nice to feel there is harmony and not chaos.

It’s beyond words, it’s a feeling.

Well, I can fight back tears for so long, right? Besides, she probably can say and feel the same. Therein lies the rub.

It’s beyond words, it’s a feeling.


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