There was a time in my life when love felt safe. I could trust it. It was a look in the eyes - that’s all it took for me to truly feel it. The words followed the look - and that helped to solidify the feeling - to truly believe it was real. To allow myself to let go. To be 100% me. And know that is who he loved. Genuinely and authentically me.
I got used to this for 9 1/2 years. Love equaled safe in my mind, body, and soul. Slowly - without any warning - no explanation - it all started to change. This love that once felt like a weighted blanket - soothing and calming no matter the energy surrounding - started to shift. The eyes looked different. Nothing made sense. Confusion filled my soul. There were no answers to my questions. My reality felt no longer true. The love that used to be so clear was becoming hazy.
Questions started to fill my soul. Questions that wouldn’t even begin to be answered until years after he died. Years of bi-weekly therapy. Therapy to help unfold some truths. Peeling back the layers upon layers of pain with the hope that one day I’ll be able to remember how this love felt. How the shift I felt wasn’t truly him. The look that left wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t his fault or mine. It was out of our control. And yet - with all of these truths today - I’m still left here on earth flailing about attempting to trust the love that was once there may have never left. I just can’t feel it. I can’t trust it. It no longer feels safe.
Will it ever again?
コメント