Two friends; one turns to the other and says:
“So, what’s going on with you and him?
“Unspecified” says the other.
“Whaddya mean?” Queries the first.
“Well…I think we’re in each others lives to help fix our’ broken parts…I can’t get any more specific than that. I mean friends? Lovers? Who knows. It’s Unspecified.
It’s changed a few times already, and it’s probably gonna keep changing. For both of us. Every minute, of every hour, of every day. It is Un-specified.
But….seriously, that’s not the important part. Not right now anyway…right now the healing’s the important part.”
(Thinly veiled fiction.)
(Thinly veiled reality?)
So, am I okay with that? Okay with the unspecified nature of this situation? Why yes, yes I am! Well, yes…and no.
See, the woman I am, or, probably, the wise-wonderful woman I wanna be; the strong-courageous, fierce woman; the one I’ve been training myself to be, teaching myself to be, finding myself to be…the woman who knows she’s worthy: worthy of love, worthy of hope, worthy of fine and good times with fine and good people, worthy of a fine and full life…That woman? Yeah, that woman is FINE with things being unspecified. As a matter of fact, that woman thinks that things being unspecified might actually be good for her!
Then there’s this other woman: the sadder, scared-er, younger woman, the one left deep, deep inside, in the past, the one that never felt loved, never felt healed, never felt whole….THAT woman? THAT woman is not fine with things being unspecified. At all! That woman wants things button downed, defined, labeled…
But here’s the rub: That woman…well, she’s not really a woman, she’s a girl; a sad-sweet-scared-shy girl who doesn’t think that good things are ever gonna happen for her…that girl? Well, she’s been in charge before, in the love arena, and lets just say that things didn’t turn out so well…All through my twenties and thirties, she was in charge, with her chasing, and grasping and fearing; with her mythologizing of men and relationships, her fatalistic certainty that it just wasn’t gonna work out; with her bone deep sorrow and despair…that poor, sad, piteous girl…she unwittingly ruined many a perfectly potential relationship, in the service of her fears.
I’m just gonna leave her in the past.
There’s another girl too…well, no, this one is a woman…a stronger woman, and wiser, but no less scared, no less petrified! This is the woman who throughout my 40’s slammed down every window and every door of the strong, thick, fortress around my heart…and did so the very instant that someone got close! This woman didn’t chase,this woman didn’t grasp, this woman…RAN!
She served me well, this woman; she taught me things, she protected me, she made sure that my tender, tender heart was wrapped up safe and secure, away from harm. This woman was a necessary stop for me. This woman probably saved my life.
But it’s this woman must stay in the past as well
It’s time for that first woman to take charge, the one I am now, or, maybe the one I’m practicing to be. The one that knows that life is good, and hard, and good again, who knows that an open heart is better than a heart that’s locked away, no matter how safe that locked away heart may be. This woman knows that if you hold love lightly, without grasping, there’s less of a chance of squeezing the life out of that love….she knows that if you hold pain lightly, without grasping, there’s less of a chance of pain squeezing the life out of you. This woman knows that sometimes things don’t turn out the way you want them to, but they do turn out, and sometimes the different is better than you ever expected. This woman knows that it’s better to let things be what they will become, than it is to insist that they match up to some predetermined picture scratched out in the dark. This woman knows, that if you keep your’ heart open, that love after loss may find you sooner than you ever thought possible! This woman believes.
This woman is Me!