sullen

I was just thinking the other day that my title, Beautifully Broken, may not suit me any more. I felt re-built, even if just a little bit. Enough to give me hope and a will to re-build the rest of me.

I spoke too soon.

But pain, heartache and feeling adrift is what makes it so much easier for me to write.

Cheers to my somewhat shaky emotional state!

dandelion clock

She’s not even dead yet and her possessions are already scattered among her family. She has given away objects she cannot take with her; physical memories we are supposed to replace with our own. A 50th birthday present, a Christmas gift; once treasured pieces, now left to collect dust among the belongings we cling to.

She is preparing for her death, which is inevitable. Erasing herself from the earth; bills, bank statements, greeting cards are all being shredded. Anything personal, anything that may be stolen, or duplicated. Anything she doesn’t need before she dies. Sentimentality isn’t something she is concerned with at the moment. Cleaning up her life before it is over, that is what consumes her. Tying up those loose ends; selling her house and her car, finding a home for her loyal and beloved dog. Her death is all business.

All her worldly possessions have been split up, quartered and adopted. She’s given her life away before it even ends. Her death will descend, not unexpectedly, among those of us left living, and we will go on, slowly at first, afraid to laugh, or smile. I wonder when we will start to see her belongings as our own. When it will stop feeling like we’ve just made room temporarily. Not permanently. For life.

if

There is something I never told you. Something you deserve to know. I never told you because I thought it would be selfish of me to say it. I held back, believing you would be better off not knowing. I always thought there were so many reasons not to tell you this, I thought that everything would hang in the balance, and I would be the one to lose. I didn’t have enough courage to tell you, when I should have. I let fear rule me and now it may be too late.

I should have taken more chances, dared to take more risks. I should have based my decisions on love, not fear. I should have been brave, and not afraid to make mistakes, or errors. I should have learned to live without regret, and not look back, but look ahead. If I had more time, I’d do things differently. I would live out loud, and honestly. I should have had the courage to tell you this a long time ago, despite what may have happened. And now I will never know.

I played it too safe. I colored inside the lines, and followed every rule. I never leapt without looking, and sat on the fence too much. I respected authority, even when I knew better and never listened to my instincts... even when they were perfectly in line with reality. I never rocked the boat, even when it was something I desperately wanted. I was seen, but not heard.

I love you. I am realizing now, as I write this, that it was selfish of me not to tell you. I was afraid that I would be hurt, never considering that it might just be the one thing you needed to hear. The one thing you’ve waited for. I feared that by telling you this, I’d be committing a crime, an offense against someone. There are far worse things in this world than loving someone. I couldn’t tell you without knowing if you’d reciprocate, but I never trusted myself that I would be okay even if you didn’t.

If there were time, I would tell you, how much I loved you. I’d be sure you knew that I loved you strongly, unconditionally, and without reserve. I’d want you to know that you were always in my heart, even now, and that I never felt alone because I carried you inside me. You would feel my love for you in my touch, hear it in my voice when I called your name, you would see it in the way I look at you.

If I could tell you that I loved you at this very moment, I would no longer be afraid of what awaits me. Time has run out for me. But because of my discernment, perhaps I never really lived at all.