This has become my mantra, as I while away the days here. I have poured myself into a combination of work, the gym, and photography, and slowly that resolute focus on the tasks at hand have pushed some of the pain of my broken engagement out of immediate view. Not all of it -- No, little Agony Ninjas still lurk in the dark corners of my psyche, and seem to ambush me at inopportune moments, and still can leave me a little breathless and shaken. But their attacks are less frequent, and I anticipate that eventually they'll get bored with whole endeavor and give up on it all together and leave me in peace. But I'm enough of a realist to recognize though, that time is a long time coming. I've just got wait it out.
Leave was tumultuous, which is everything that your rest and relaxation time from a war zone shouldn't be. Given the tasks I had to tackle, such as moving out of the house I once shared with Chris, there wasn't much that could be done to prevent the chaos. But, I could have handled the whole mess better. Live and learn, I guess... Live and learn. But the time spent with family and friends was like a salve on my raw wounds, and was welcomed and appreciated more than I can put into words. While there isn't a minute of my leave I'll forget anytime soon, it's those moments with friends and family that I focus on now. The rest I've boxed up to deal with later. No need to replay ugly memories over and over and torture myself with them, when there is nothing I can do to change them.
I'm doing okay. Actually, most days better than that. I've had some closure in my dealings with Chris, and since that time I've been quicker to laugh and been more optimistic than I was even months before my leave. That I find as even more evidence that I've made the right choices. It's extremely comforting.
In the tidying up of the space I call home these days, I found a series of letters that I had written to Christopher -- letters that I never sent, and never will. Last night, I stepped outside onto the crushed rock driveway, and burned them. When I was done, I let their ashes scatter to the wind, and felt infinitely better for it. As my charred words drifted away on the evening breeze, my eyes were dry. My tears for a man that was more fiction than fact have long since been spent. I realized then, that when I leave this God-forsaken country, I'll be over him. That time can't come soon enough.
I will leave you with a photo of this place... of the horizon the night after I returned from leave. It seemed hopeful to me, and I have found myself bringing it up often to look at it when my spirits have needed a little lifting. Sometimes images can heal far better than words...
No comments:
Post a Comment