Letting Go

There’s always excitement when a new relationship begins. As things progress, there’s hope and joy in finding a partner to journey through life. There are exciting updates as life unfolds and love grows. It’s impossible not to share. But what happens when the opposite occurs? When a relationship ends? Instead of moving forward, you move apart. Most people quietly delete the memories or avoid the topic altogether. There’s embarrassment in sharing the news, as if somehow, you’ve failed. Somehow, you couldn’t make this relationship work, or you weren’t enough for them to stay.

It’s hard to reframe a breakup as something positive. I’ve been lucky enough to be loved three different times, in three different ways. Each one brought different parts of me to life and then was devastating to let go. I am grateful to have had a hand to walk with me during different periods of my life. They’ve taught me many things and tested my ability to love. But they’ve never made it easier to lose.

I experience emotions and feelings deeply. As an empath, there’s never a shortage of either. There’s always a guarantee that any event will elicit a wave of emotions in me.
After time and many conversations about whether we could continue our relationship, my whole world turned upside down. What little stability and foundation I had completely changed. The person and future I could see so clearly was abruptly taken away. I was willing to continue to fight for the life and love we had built, but he couldn’t. He chose to walk away. Even when you can see their flaws and choose to love them through it, they get stuck on yours. Or they can’t see the person in themselves that you do. They doubt their capability to love and sacrifice. But you can see it so clearly if only they could tap into it.

There are so many moments that I am reminded of what I have lost. I listen to the playlist made for our relationship and my heart breaks at the love I was offering. Sometimes, when the light hits just right, I am flooded with memories. The way the afternoon light would look when I was off work and headed over to his place. The morning sun breaking on a Saturday and wanting to surprise him with coffee. Evening twilight with nothing to do but longing to be on his couch doing nothing with him.

There’s the selfish hope that others would let him know what a mistake it is to walk away. Or that with time, there is regret for the decision he made and a realization of what he lost. A friend asked me if this breakup felt right. And it doesn’t. What we had was special. Our friendship came so naturally. It’s not something found easily. But I can’t change his mind. Even if I spent so many tears and prayers discerning.

Now, I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know where I am headed next. It’s said to take the next right step, but I am in complete darkness and cannot see what that next step is in front of me. I know that time will heal. I know that life continues, and things will get better. But there’s a grief that comes with losing a life you longed to have. To losing a friend you never wanted to be without. I don’t want platitudes or consolations like “Something better is out there for me,” or “There are other people out there.” I need the space to work through the pain and loss. I mourn the life I began to dream of, and the crushing hope of a marriage, a dance partner, a person to cry on, and a person to love. In losing that which I fought to find. Wants I never knew I could want but began to because I wanted them with him.

Somehow, I have to trust that God is faithful. That there is good that can come from the surrender. Some days that is easier, and others I doubt there could even be a God. I’m not okay. I don’t know when I will be. Please be patient as I figure out how to walk these next steps alone.