Musings from the Laundromat: Broken Hope edition
I have decided that it is not the heart that breaks, but hope.
A broken heart would be incapable of feeling- and so considering the pain mine is experiencing, it is obviously in cruel working order.
I find myself again balanced on a high, thin, internet wire – having to carefully step by the meat of a story out of respect for others involved.
The long and short of it is – I don’t want to be here today. Here where just short days ago I was accompanied by someone very special.
The rainbow umbrella I have joked about in past posts seems duller.
The coffee I’m drinking tastes blander.
I’m in a robotic mode going through my days now, and have shed so many tears, if I were an actual robot, my lids would be seized closed from rust.
I lay in bed last night watching Lark Rise to Candleford and heard this dialogue:
It trumps our best intentions – our better selves.
And seems to be the thing we humans have the hardest time forgiving. Isn’t that odd?
I came across this beautiful picture by Zhang Jingna while contemplating writing my story in Fairy Tale format – I quickly dismissed the idea. It was to have a Peasant, who had built up a wall in which she lived behind in a harsh environment – a Prince who would travel from a distant land and a small, angry blue gnome who meddled in matters of the heart.
The picture I will share though – it so encompasses how I am feeling.
I lay on my mothers chest yesterday – for the first time in years. She stroked my hair the way she did when I was little. I let the tears fall onto her pink top and while it was a little awkward at first, I think for both of us, I soon found myself gripping her tighter and not wanting to ever let go.
My son – oh … my son. He sat and told me that he gets his compassion from me. His creativity from me. His love of things different from me. He said he would always be my man – and he hugged me tight these past days. This child I used to hold when ever he was hurting has become a young man whose eyes mirrored my pain and understood and reached out.
My friends – I have been given words from people who care from me that I will treasure always. I did not know I mattered in ways that were expressed. That meant so much to hear.
So my hope is not completely broken.
I still see such good.
I still see beauty.
I will not rush my healing, but let my heart and hope rebuild in time.
I will wish the Prince a peaceful heart and a happy life – because when we love someone, that’s what we want for them.
No matter if we are blessed to be a part of it or not.
I will continue to look for good in every corner of this beautiful life.
But for now – another Auden writing comes to mind.
I shall end with another Thank You.
To the man who brought rain – I thank you for being the one who I dismantled my wall for. The one who I opened my heart to – the one who gave me hope and had my jaded heart believe in happy ever afters once more.
And while I did not receive the glass slipper, or grow old on a porch with you – I was shown I was capable of wanting those things.
For now I rebuild my wall.
And I mourn until I am capable of letting go.