You may think…

You may think I’m the same as all of the others…..

But I’m not…..because you’re not, and I recognized you in a moment. And although I was initially reluctant, I gave in. I surrendered. The first night. The second and third. After months of not knowing what was to come…..when the realization first struck. I surrendered…..as I do now.

There’s no denying anything. There’s no moving on as usual. Yes, I’m alive. I’m good. I’ll be okay.

But I am forever altered. Spoiled. I was always such a loyal and faithful woman in my younger days……either out of stubborn determination or the need to control fate, prove my worth.

There’s nothing to prove here, however. No need to be loyal or faithful. No need to acquire your trust, desire, or love. Because…..I’m free…..and so are you. You let me go and I’ve done the same.

And yet, even without the hope and faith of “someday”……I’m making a choice. The choice is to follow my inner voice/guide…..the one that reminds me every day that I’m not in control of this. In fact, my only choice is to surrender to it or not….because I can’t NOT choose you. Nor could I ever choose you, either. THAT is out of my control.

And so, I’ll write. I’ll do all of the things to live the life I want. I’ll help others. I’ll do it all alone. I’ll accept my lack of desire for physical intimacy with anyone else. Maybe on the rare occasion, the feelings you awoke in me will flow through me and I’ll partially enjoy a moment…..as incomparable as it would likely be.

Admittedly, part of me does wish you would have stayed away from me…..but then where would I be? Still searching? Yes, there was hope in the search. And yes, this hope is no longer. But undeniable realization and surrender bring peace. It’s not unlike death. We can fight it, but we will continue to feel the pain of it until we finally let go and surrender ourselves to it.

You may think I’m the same as all of the others…..

And maybe I am. Maybe that’s a sad reality. Maybe the universe lies. Even so….what can I do but give in again? Walls down. Acceptance. I’ll live here the rest of my life if I must….in this place I now find myself. It’s not as sad as it looks. I promise.

Because, real love isn’t sad at all. THIS isn’t sad. It’s authentic and whole and without question. It’s simply a truth I accept…..with no concern for whether it’s right, wrong, recognized, or misguided.

We all have roles…..physical lives. So often, there’s a practicality that dominates our choices. This practicality wanted to dominate mine. Perhaps it dominates yours….as it has a huge amount of fight in it. It tells you to get your shit together or hold it together. It tells you who you should be or need to be. It wields responsibility like a sword and threatens your identity with every action you take. It holds you hostage. It holds love hostage. All while you attempt to negotiate with it. But you can’t negotiate your way free. It would sooner put a bullet in your head before it lets you go.

You are the least practical choice I could make. You are in a different position in your life than I am in mine. You…..in all honesty……make no sense.

And yet, what does “sense” have to do with this? Nothing. It defies it. Maybe it has a place in the ordinary world…..in our ordinary lives. But here, in this, it has no power. Only that which exists beyond has the power.

Of this, I am aware. To this, I surrender.

You may think I’m the same as all of the others…..

And that’s okay.

This is how I feel, only. Physical intimacy….that’s a “you” thing. But this, here….it’s a “me” thing. I don’t expect it to move you.

Because, you see…..

I’ve always just been the same as the others..

One thought on “You may think…

  1. The older I get (and the longer I practice Zen), the more — and less — I know. (I think.) The less I know, the more I understand, the less I’m able to articulate it. Something like that.

    So what you say about choice strikes a chord. I’ve long thought we can’t choose what we believe, or whom or what we love. Yet beliefs change, love ebbs and evolves — how? At some level, obviously, we make choices. To accept or surrender, or resist or deny; to do this and not that, to direct our attention, to follow or release a train of thought, an emotional weather pattern.

    Similarly, perhaps, what I thought I knew of regret and failure becomes fuzzier. I can wish I’d made different choices in the past, but how could I have? And how can I reject the learning and growth, the ongoing gifts, of all those choices? (As if I could go back and be a different person, as if this speculation is meaningful.)

    As for failure, I was asked in a job interview the other day to provide examples of times I’d failed and what I learned. I was stumped. What is failure but the story of things diverging from one’s hopes or expectations? What is it but a reality check, new data for adjusting premises and hypotheses?

    Isn’t disillusionment — the exposure of an illusion — a good thing?

    I don’t know. But maybe I understand.

    Like

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