You never bought me flowers, but there were those moments where you made me feel like you would give me the stars if you could. Gifts of the physical nature were never something that you really understood. Yet I am surrounded by all of the things that you gave me. The beautiful, the horrendous, all piled up in my mind crying out to be sorted, sifted, held onto, or discarded.
The process of unraveling all of the knots we created in our time together stirs up so many mixed emotions. Your gifts sit at my feet stopping any attempt to walk forward until they are sorted. How does one grieve and hate simultaneously? How could you leave behind so much love and so much loathing all intertwined creating this massive muddled mess that overshadows any remnant of your existence.
This paradox of emotions creates an undercurrent of chaos that flows through me constantly. There is no guide for how to navigate this, no lighted path, only my two feet pushing forward into the madness. This was the last gift you gave, in your death you sowed these seeds, and I became the sole tender of our garden. I became a victim, a survivor, a lost soul, and a widow left with memories all tangled and disheveled.
You never took me out to fancy dinners, but there were times that with you I never felt hunger. Traditional courtship was not something you ever knew how to navigate. Yet from the very start I never doubted that you had a desire to have a life with me. Somewhere along the way it all became distorted and it became impossible to separate love from possession, insecurity from control, rage from madness.
The journey that led us into darkness and violence is etched in my soul leaving scars of all that transpired. The trauma that I endured at your hands startles me at times, an experience that creates separation from the living. How do I learn to feel powerful when I’ve experienced all of my power and will being ripped from me? How do I regain my ability to trust anyone including myself when you showed me how dangerous trust can be?
The process of feeling my intuition was like breathing air after you departed. I was forced violently into the reality of what I ignored for so long in my attempt to save you from yourself. This was a return to self, something that I had shoved deep down within me during our courtship that was as frightening and liberating as a dam breaking. I became what I always was, grounded in my knowing I began to see things for what they were again.
I never said anything each time that you asked for my hand, but you never stopped asking. Feeling that I held any value was something I was never good at. Yet I always wanted to believe that if I held on tight enough, maybe one day I would be worthy of love. Somewhere along the way that was lost and all I had left was a numbing ache from your harsh words and violence.
The sharp contrast between being loved and being hated became blurred into a fog of uncertainty. The hurt that you caused me became my armor that I wore with the idea that I must hold on because if I didnt you would do this to someone else. How could I let this pain befall anyone else? How do I stay whole when I am loved and despised by you?
The unraveling of all that transpired has spurred growth in unexpected ways because I always knew that you would bring about a beginning and an end. I have dove into the depths of my flaws and my beauty to find that both are a part of the whole, one cannot exist without the other, and neither are permanent. So I step forward with scars and hope, love and grief. This will not break me, but has changed me at the very core.
I am no longer swayed by flowers, dinners, wooing, or the lack thereof. These are no longer important to me as I now know that understanding self is the true liberation. I look for growth, for understanding, for a union and acceptance between my light and darkness. I stand among the chaos and become water, observe, understand, and let go. Because to become tangled in others waves can lead to drowning.
This path to confront all of my mistakes alongside yours at times feels overwhelming. Guilt wants to take hold at times, at others forgiveness for myself as well as for you. How did it get to the point that violence erupted and destroyed pieces of me and took your life? How did I find any justification in your actions to still try and hold on to the very end?
The events that transpired are just a mirror of life, sometimes it’s horrifically painful because the pain clears the way for new growth. I see how the violence I endured has grown to become my strength, how the degradation you threw at me has diminished my concern for what others think. I am now the only gardener of this plot, so I choose for this to be a catalyst for something beautiful, I choose forgiveness and love. Because, what is the purpose of what I endured or your life if I let it break me, or let your memory be only the harm you caused others?
Somewhere between the land of the living and the dead is a bridge. So I lay this letter on that bridge to release all of it for you and I both in peace. I forgive you as freely as I know I have forgiveness, I understand now, and I thank you for helping me grow. Love is all that remains, the rest is ashes, because in the end all there ever was or ever will be is love.
foxgloveremedy 