Almost
13 Sep
‘Time heals all wounds’, the tongue-tied tell the broken-hearted.
As seconds roll into hours and hours roll into relentlessly long days and those days turn into weeks with lines crossed through them to indicate that painstakingly slow passage of time gone, the open wounds do indeed heal.
But when the pain eases, when the stabbing, numbing ache of loss fades, all that is left is a sweet, sweet sadness. It is that sadness of almost. I almost got him. He almost got me. We almost got it right. At the core of sadness is resigned anger; no matter how much we want, how hard we try, how much we yearn nothing in the past is in our control. I get angry at him for not seeing the ‘we’ that was. I get angry at myself for allowing my fears of losing him to invade the ‘we’ that was. I get angry at the both of us for giving up, for not trusting, for not letting go.
Four weeks later, I am out of despair. I am healing nicely.
But, I’m still sad. Because we almost had it. We almost got it right.We stood at the edge, we even held hands, we looked down into the unknown, and instead of closing our eyes and taking that giant leap forward together, we stood on that edge–eyes wide open–and we argued. ‘Should we should jump on three or should we jump after three?’ And because we took too long, because we could not make a decision, because we were both too cowardly to jump without wings, our hands fell to each of our frozen sides and we walked away.
It was easier to do that, I suppose. I suppose, it was the safest, most logical strategy. I suppose, I am better off. I suppose, he is too.
So four weeks later, I am finally there. I have accepted that it is indeed over.
Well, almost.
“We stood at the edge, we even held hands, we looked down into the unknown, and instead of closing our eyes and taking that giant leap forward together, we stood on that edge–eyes wide open–and we argued. ‘Should we should jump on three or should we jump after three?’ And because we took too long, because we could not make a decision, because we were both too cowardly to jump without wings, our hands fell to each of our frozen sides and we walked away.”
Amazing writing. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve borrowed this (with the requisite quotation marks) as a “favorite quote.” It so perfectly encapsulates much of what I’m feeling right now.
You have an uncanny ability to do that with your words, Hope.
that was beautiful, as much as it is sad. you just want to keep on reading…
“But when the pain eases, when the stabbing, numbing ache of loss fades, all that is left is a sweet, sweet sadness. It is that sadness of almost. I almost got him. He almost got me. We almost got it right. At the core of sadness is resigned anger; no matter how much we want, how hard we try, how much we yearn nothing in the past is in our control.”
That was my favorite part
The last line is my favorite.
Also, I couldn’t help thinking of the Bowling for Soup song “Almost” which is, I think, a perfectly silly sounding song on the concept of unrequited almosts.
4 weeks, that’s amazing. Like your title though, hope dies last. I recently had a relationship end (now we’re back togehter) but I clearly remember during that time the only thing that made me feel normal and ok was the hope that we would get back together. It’s those feelings that are hardest to overcome and push aside. Great post.
When standing on the brink, my strategy was to distract Mr Zeus, push him into the brink and follow. I wanted that man and I went after him like a heat-seeking missile. I’ve never worked that hard or with so much determination for anything else in my life!
I am glad I found your website. I am in the process of healing too. Just today, I deleted pictured and dumped his stuff in the ex-boyfriends box. It’ll be a month in 4 days. I hope we’ll both be better by then :)