Today I did a fund-raising walk for a friend who’s brother was in a serious accident. It was 5 km walk on a cold and rainy day. Of course participating in such an event should put everything in perspective - I am not the one who will be confined to a wheelchair. But human nature can be selfish, and I found it difficult to push my aching heart aside.
A 5K walk is pretty long for someone who hates exercise. And I hate it - I don’t know anything about those “endorphins” people talk about. Exercise is sweaty, unpleasant and takes way too long. Unfortunately, exercise is also necessary to keep me from growing to Jabba-like proportions, so to avoid such a fate - I do the minimum necessary to stay “voluptuous” and not “obese”. But I digress….
A 5K walk is long. There is a lot of time to think. I am, by nature, someone who has huge feelings - no emotion is felt half-way. Over the years, I have learned how to live with such heightened emotions. I need to purge emotion. I need to cry and grieve and ache. I vomit up the bad feelings and move on. But I also need to re-frame the situation.
So here are the re-frames from my walk today.
I have a lot of friends who love me. At the walk, there were easily 30 people who hugged me and consider me to be a friend. Out of those 30 people, there were 5 people who really love me. People who become angry on my behalf; people who hurt when I hurt.
I have family who loves me. Yesterday, after finding out that my love had been rejected and thrown back in my face, I cried a lot. A family member was with me all day. And during my walk, he texted me several times to make sure I was ok. I have great family.
Yes, I am in pain. Deep, throbbing pain. But I can feel. The fact that I hurt so much reminds me that I’m alive - and reminds me that I can still love. I can hurt, even when I’ve been hurt before, because I never let past losses dictate my ability to give of myself again. I don’t get bitter and I don’t play games. The next time I meet someone wonderful - I will still offer my heart without reservation or bitterness.
Mr. X dumped me. He said he did it for my own good. He said that eventually he would hurt me. Well, maybe he did do me a favour. Maybe he’s a serial killer and I’ll read about him in the paper. Maybe he’s one of those love ‘em and leave ‘em guys who rips off lonely women. Maybe he had plans to keep me in an underground bunker for the next thirty years. Maybe he’s just an asshole. Or maybe he’s paralyzed by his own fears and would rather stay locked in a prison of his own making - and will reject anyone offering a key to get out.
So did he do me a favour? Probably. I don’t think he’s a serial killer or anything like that. I think he’s locked in his own prison. I had a key - but although I could unlock the door, I couldn’t make him come out. I couldn’t entice him out; I couldn’t drag him out. I begged him to come out - be happy, breathe, live and love and be safe within my arms. But no.
My re-frame is that maybe I will never feel like this again, but at least I can feel. My heart is not locked away. I have the capacity to love and if it never happens again, I know that I am not afraid of loving.
But still…. I wonder as he lies in his own prison….does he miss me? Does he really know what he threw away? Or did he just build another wall around that part of his heart where I cease to exist.
A 5K walk is pretty long for someone who hates exercise. And I hate it - I don’t know anything about those “endorphins” people talk about. Exercise is sweaty, unpleasant and takes way too long. Unfortunately, exercise is also necessary to keep me from growing to Jabba-like proportions, so to avoid such a fate - I do the minimum necessary to stay “voluptuous” and not “obese”. But I digress….
A 5K walk is long. There is a lot of time to think. I am, by nature, someone who has huge feelings - no emotion is felt half-way. Over the years, I have learned how to live with such heightened emotions. I need to purge emotion. I need to cry and grieve and ache. I vomit up the bad feelings and move on. But I also need to re-frame the situation.
So here are the re-frames from my walk today.
I have a lot of friends who love me. At the walk, there were easily 30 people who hugged me and consider me to be a friend. Out of those 30 people, there were 5 people who really love me. People who become angry on my behalf; people who hurt when I hurt.
I have family who loves me. Yesterday, after finding out that my love had been rejected and thrown back in my face, I cried a lot. A family member was with me all day. And during my walk, he texted me several times to make sure I was ok. I have great family.
Yes, I am in pain. Deep, throbbing pain. But I can feel. The fact that I hurt so much reminds me that I’m alive - and reminds me that I can still love. I can hurt, even when I’ve been hurt before, because I never let past losses dictate my ability to give of myself again. I don’t get bitter and I don’t play games. The next time I meet someone wonderful - I will still offer my heart without reservation or bitterness.
Mr. X dumped me. He said he did it for my own good. He said that eventually he would hurt me. Well, maybe he did do me a favour. Maybe he’s a serial killer and I’ll read about him in the paper. Maybe he’s one of those love ‘em and leave ‘em guys who rips off lonely women. Maybe he had plans to keep me in an underground bunker for the next thirty years. Maybe he’s just an asshole. Or maybe he’s paralyzed by his own fears and would rather stay locked in a prison of his own making - and will reject anyone offering a key to get out.
So did he do me a favour? Probably. I don’t think he’s a serial killer or anything like that. I think he’s locked in his own prison. I had a key - but although I could unlock the door, I couldn’t make him come out. I couldn’t entice him out; I couldn’t drag him out. I begged him to come out - be happy, breathe, live and love and be safe within my arms. But no.
My re-frame is that maybe I will never feel like this again, but at least I can feel. My heart is not locked away. I have the capacity to love and if it never happens again, I know that I am not afraid of loving.
But still…. I wonder as he lies in his own prison….does he miss me? Does he really know what he threw away? Or did he just build another wall around that part of his heart where I cease to exist.