A friend sent me an article by Lissa Rankin called Love Your Enemy. Below is an excerpt from Noelle Newby for your reading. This is the part that touched me to my core. The part that made me cry because it so poignantly felt like me.
You see, my Ex and I were together for most of my life and while I do not want to be with him anymore, there is a part of me that will always be bound by him even when I do not want to feel it. I mean, how could it not be? We were married for over two decades, had two amazing kids together and lived through many hard times. The fact that he walked away from all of us saying, I don’t want to do this anymore, broke my heart wide open but also, after healing, it gave me a chance to start over and to realize how strong I really am. I am grateful for his courage even though I never understood it at the time.
But there’s that piece of me. That cord which still resides deeply in my heart for what was once a loving connection which disconnected so thoroughly, but that my heart/soul still holds tenderly from afar. I hold it at arms length since I am much happier without him, but yet, I am grateful for all the good that once was. Does any of this make sense to you? Maybe have you felt this way before about your past relationships?
I try and explain the fracture to the me who once clutched you close. I tell her you’re angry, righteous, and maybe a little afraid, believing the worst of us at every tweet and turn. But seventeen is stubborn, and she’ll have none of abandoning you. Each time she sees your face or hears your name, a smile steals into the sliver of our heart you conquered, before time beats to present day.
I could force her to submit to what severs instead of binds. But to do so would diminish what is left of her, and that I cannot abide. Because maybe she’s the best of me, fighting for the best of you. And maybe the world would benefit from a little more doe-eyed, force of loving will.
At this moment, on another plane, she’s leaving young you a final, clumsy origami hidden beneath a dilapidated desk. In eternal ink, she’s etched what she most wants you to know; that the dreams you co-conjured in car rides and cigarette kisses came true. That she loves her life and thanks you for your part in it. That when she’s afraid she still “screws her courage to the sticking-place,” knowing she will not fail. That she loves her friend. Always. And Still.
Maybe there’s hope for (all of) us yet.
I just wish we could put aside all the ugly disconnections and connect with loving hearts for the sake of our kids. I told him just before the divorce was final that I am grateful for what once was and for what is in my present life. I wish I could ask him to let go of whatever holds him back from being that man I once loved with my whole heart. I wish I could tell him face to face that I am happy and at peace and I wish the same for him, that I hold no grudges and I have released all anger, resentment and misunderstandings that I once held. I would wish him the best in his life as I am grateful for my own. I wish I could hug him and touch the soulful essence that I once knew so well in him and free him from the ugly cords which bind him to act the way he does. But with all that aside, I rest in knowing I am at peace with my life and I wish the same for him. Bottom line.
I wish, I wish, I wish.