“I remember awakening one morning and finding everything smeared with the color of forgotten love” – Charles Bukowski

This just about sums up how I felt in that moment when I realized I wasn’t in love anymore.

Something I’ve learned about myself is that when I love I love deeply, too much perhaps, but how do you control love? You can’t help how you feel, there’s no turning down the volume, it is what it is, you either feel it or you don’t. I used to ask myself why am I giving this person everything and I’m not getting anything in return and I would excuse him for it with the notion that he just shows his love in a different way than I do. I started to think that I was too loving, too romantic, too idealistic, too hungry for love and passion. At the end of it all I actually felt quite silly for ever believing that those things really existed, those feelings and desires, and I was stripped bare.

At night when we’d go to bed I would lie awake staring at his back as he lay on the edge of the bed, this vast space between us. I’d cry silently, not wanting to make an already awkward situation even worse. That was one of the worst feelings I’ve ever felt. I wondered what was so terrible about me that he would rather cling to the edge of the bed than lie next to me, his wife. Eventually even that was too much for him to bear and he just stopped coming to bed altogether. Didn’t feel good.

The Bukowski line describes how I felt. After such a long period of time when all I felt was grief and despair there was a moment, a morning. I woke up and was lying in bed gazing out the window and it was the most beautiful morning, full of clarity, when the sky is that shade of blue you only see in the Spring and the sun was shining but it looked cold. The light was melancholy and matter-of-fact. I looked around me and I knew it was over. Everything felt foreign, the sheets on the bed, the paint on the walls, the books on the shelf. It was as if everything was stained. Those feelings of love and hope and desire were long gone. Instead there was just this awful, suffocating sadness.

Months later during my recovery I was sitting outside by myself and I had this incredibly strong feeling. It was a hot day and I was enjoying the feeling of the sun on my skin and I was thinking about everything that had happened and I was crying sort of half happy half sad and I suddenly had this very strong feeling wash over me. I felt alive. I felt like the day had just hugged me. It was the most intense and beautiful and life affirming feeling I’ve ever experienced and I have no idea where it came from.

I’ve had my feelings hurt, I’ve hurt other peoples feelings. I know how it feels to show love and I know what it is to feel loved. I’ve felt angry (still do) and sad and hopeless, and I’ve felt strong too. Feelings leave scars on who you are, whether they be good or bad.

Intuition is a feeling. One thing this experience has taught me is to trust it.

~ by brebrave on June 6, 2014.

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