Ghosts of great loves past

large-27

It’s a Sunday night, so perhaps that can be partly accountable for this love-torn, overwhelming sensation circulating through my breathing, able body. My heart beating out of its cage, as I play images of ghosts of great loves past to an ongoing, mood-fitting soundtrack in the background.

Backstage. In the stands. At the arena. In the bedroom. Goal. Changing the station. Re-writing the chorus. Re-writing the future in but a spontaneous, unexpected, decision made and expressed. The end. It’s over. Now what. It’s on. And on life goes, the only control post walking away is hoping the door will never be entirely closed; that a friendship can still stand. That a knowingness of the depths of what was once shared, will forever spark between us, no matter whether the music tries to tune us out or not.

I’m a lover, and love so very deeply I do. And when I let those into the depths of my heart, I do so with such consideration. And so, I find it so awfully sad when a relationship comes to an end, and days, weeks, months, years pass and these people who I have had such a life-changing relationship with become simply, strangers.

How heartbreaking it is that we share such monumental moments with another. Moments that – at the time – seem like the most important or instrumental in our lives. And yet, with distance comes a lack of sharing vulnerabilities and ongoing shared moments. And with a lack of sharing vulnerabilities and ongoing shared moments, we instead share these with others. And when we share these with others, we continue to cause further distance as said others are cast into the role in which our former love(s) once played. And played, did they ever. To a crowd, no doubt, but to us, instrumentally.

And that is life. And though I love life. And though I’m so very grateful for each breath, moment, connection that I am lucky of enough to have and to make, I am so very saddened by it in the sense that those we tend to value most or have such a positive impact on us, become but a ‘once upon a time.’ Become but a chapter. Become but a moment in a book still being written.

Tonight alone, an ex from oversea’s band is playing in my city. A rarity that happens but about once a year. Come midnight, marks the birthday of my dearest ex, a man who – even after we split – was my bestest friend, biggest fan, and family/uncle to my little nieces and nephews who admired him so (and still ask about him weekly and love him so very dearly). On a stage at another area in town, another former flame – albeit of a lesser degree – will strum his chords. A song played out. A presence that was once there weekly no longer in the wake.

And I’m ok. And I’m here. And for all these situations – and more –  I’ve grown. I’ve learned. The overseas man came into my life while I was with another, but won me over and taught me one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned: to open up. To unblock my heart. To love with reckless abandon, whether I get hurt or not in the end. To be real and raw and authentic and me without walls and restrictions. Because what is life without love? How will we ever move forward or really even live if we have up walls and push people away and play it cool?

And after him, while he was back on tour, I met another. I walked into this guys bar, and – like Sliding Doors – my life too was transformed, forever. He taught me dedication. He taught me loyalty. His nurture, his nature and the ease in which our relationship worked, was such a blessing. Throughout our years together and living together, we never argued nor did we ever fight. We respected each other as equals and always communicated in healthy ways. His intuition rubbed off on me and we always approached one another with loving kindness when we sensed something was up or wrong or off. He showed me that you don’t need distance or drama to keep a relationship alive, but instead, need a deep rooted, loving, bare-bones friendship. It’s been a year and a half (jesus!) since our split, and I still talk about him with such pride and honour. I feel like a better person to have had someone as amazing as him choose me to be his partner for the time it lasted. We no longer have romance between us; he’s become like a brother. But I want – almost more than anything – for him to find complete and utter happiness and love, whether it includes me or not.

And what is better than that? Than being able to look at our past, learn from it and want the best for another who once was the best for you? Sure, I miss former flames. Some way more than others. To be fair, I can think of one I wish didn’t exist. But in these moments of heartache, and moments of reflection, I can still manage to smile. For the only constant we have is change. And so change, I welcome you. Arms wide open. Heart ready, able and willing.

– Jen

 Photo cred.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>