What was it like, to be emotionally stable, to feel good in most - if not all - circumstances? How have I become this rollercoasting coaster of a woman? I had to open, had to crack, but could it be that now I am holding on to what has spilled out of me? Is it time to stop inspecting the contents that have left me and now investigate what is left at my core ... the lightness of my being?
It's as if I've trapped myself in a perpetual state of "opening", and the actual resulting space of openness has not been felt. Letting go of the transformative state is almost as hard as stepping into it. Maybe I haven't even experienced the new me post transformation.
So, how do I know when I've felt enough and must move on to equanimity? When do I start to focus elsewhere instead of on the pain and struggle? I've just learned how to feel anger, how to release frustration, how to see what I want and don't want, how to feel the spectrum of emotions. Seems easy to get addicted to these wild emotions. They're part of the HUMAN EXPERIENCE! and I've been missing out for decades until now! Although this is true, I don't want to become one who seeks drama with these new teachings.
I must realize I have learned everything from my teacher, and say goodbye. Now I can be the new version of myself: one who encompasses and expresses real emotion while also remaining steady, calm, and loving, specifically inwardly.
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The ambiguity keeps me tied. It allows for one tiny crack of light to come through, one glimmer of hopeless romantic hope, underneath all of the hard layers I have built on top of my heart. No matter how much I deny it, there is constant wishful thinking, and that is because there has been absolutely no closure. Or perhaps there was, and it was not held to its truth. Am I the one who needs to close this door forever? is this even possible, would my soul allow itself to escape its confines of the prison I built around him?
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The more time passes the less time passes between thoughts. After a good amount of time I am able to divert my attention of affection from he to me. It feels almost effortless, which is surprising as it is so unbearable when I relapse into one of my dreadful, heart-breaking episodes. They come on like a tidal wave with no warning. I think I've survived with no wounds or trauma to speak of, and yet, it remerges every time, showing its beastly head, showing me that locking it up and hiding it away never killed him. The only way to escape such tidal-wave-born beasts is if the cycle is broken, and to break such a cycle means to try something completely different. Something needs to be taken out of the equation completely. If he were never to return into my world, I would no doubt free the monster inside of me. But how do I come to make such a choice, to push someone I love so much far away from me, never to be seen again?
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