You may never know this, but I need to speak it. I hope the Universe hears the tears I’ve cried and delivers the message in some form or another. And most of all, I hope you can hear it, because it’s a message from my soul; one of Love. The only language the soul speaks and understands.

As I sat there, I felt the tears welling up in my eyes as you said goodbye to me. Again, you said goodbye to anything I had to offer at the time. Me. My love. It was all that I had.

I could not withstand anymore maybes, or tries. My heart shattered to pieces. It felt like you took a piece of me, every time you left, and as a result, I felt broken. Missing pieces of me that I had to search for, remember and hug back to life, myself.

Frightened, that the ghost would take you from me again. I was too tired to try and tame and conquer the ghost any longer.

You see, I had no other choice left in me;  I had to honor what was left of me, and say goodbye, too. To your ghost. I know it’s not who you inherently are, no one is; it’s just something that has unconsciously overcome you. Taken you away from home, to someplace as dark as the night, where ghosts live.

The memories of the friendship we had and the love we shared flashed through my mind like a movie, in a long since gone montage of togetherness. The ghost became the BFF instead of me and our life became like some horror movie.

We were living separate lives. Lonely while sitting right next to each other. Separated only by the egoic ghost that had moved in, made itself comfortable, and taken up the space between us.

It became so pungent , thick and cloudy, that we could no longer really see each other through it. We couldn’t smell, taste or remember the scent and delicious flavor of our love that could have brought us back home.

The same ghost that ruins every good thing. That ruins love. Destroys it, like a thief. The ghost that speaks of fear and separation, suffering. Expectations, demands. The ghost that is greedy, never satisfied and likes to withhold love. The ghost that doesn’t allow love in, because if it did, it would starve to death. Starve in the Light of love.

We chose the ghost that isn’t even real, over a love, that is.

It’s easy to remember the good stuff when you’re thinking about someone you truly love and did your very best to love with your whole heart and soul.

The visits and phone calls at work, the late nights, the first date, the song that was ours, the park, the parking garage, dancing under the streetlight, the Christmas Village, the music, the laughter, the adventures, the dreams, the kindness, the support, the sidecar rides, thrifting, St. Augustine, Annapolis, the biplane ride, the fancy NYE at the Luminary…so many.

The nights we laid there silently, holding onto only each other.  No space or words between us. Our minds and bodies exhausted, folded, piled and melted into our comfortable heap of soft and gentle togetherness. The good stuff.

My soul couldn’t take reliving the heartache and suffering and pain that we had endured as a couple. That I had endured. The tries, the maybes. The not enoughness. The unworthiness.

Love is none of those things, and instead a concious choice born of the stillness within the center of our being and the promise to honor it. To honor the beautiful space that is our joined souls. To honor our humanity. Things we share as human beings.

Love does not hurt in any way. Ever. It shouldn’t. The absence of it, always does. Disconnect, always does. The ghost, always does.

The anxiety and angst that caused me to cry so many nights. So many days. Silently. Out loud. The breakdowns you never saw, and the ones you did. It was because I cared. I loved. I wanted the best for us.

It scared me when I could not cry anymore. That is not me. I had lost another piece of my beautiful humanness. And I couldn’t stand to lose anymore.

I simply didn’t want to feel that way again. I had to protect myself from everything that was not love. Protect myself from the ghost.

It infiltrated my entire existence. I felt dead inside. Numb, because I couldn’t physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually carry anymore of the burden.

The ghost. It became so heavy. Too heavy for me to carry any longer.

It made me sick. First spiritually, then mentally and physically sick. Our unhealthy ways of being, sharing a space with the ghost that was consuming us.  So sick. I felt like a shell and no longer me. Soul sick.

I felt anything but beautiful or worthy in your eyes. Anything but lovely or magical by your looks and words. Anything but loved. Anything but the Light and Love of your life.

I was empty. Exhausted.

Our home felt like a prison. Barren and desolate. Bars instead of freedom, locks instead of windows, chains instead of opportunities, dead instead of alive, labeled instead of whole;  ugly whitewashed and filthy with the words and actions that were anything but love. Division, instead of one unit. I was in the middle, instead of in between.

I was existing, not living; we all were.

One last I love you, and I had to go. I was no longer existing in that space. I had completely rearranged my life, did the work on my inner and outer worlds, rediscovered my soul, my enoughness, my God-given worthiness,  and didn’t want to return to that way of being. The suffering; I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t embrace the ghost.

It wounded my soul. It was painful. Terrifying. Excruciatingly painful and exhausting.

We could only ever meet each other, connect with each other as deeply as we had done the inner work on ourselves. I had to let you go, in order to do mine, and rediscover all that had been buried beneath the muck that the ghost left behind, in order to find the deep connection that is meant for me. The deep connection with myself. Remember the love of myself again.

The crazy part is that what every soul ultimately wants and desires, beneath the muck of the ego is a deep and meaningful connection. Soul deep and without conditions. The place where we came from and will eventually return.

Instead the path we chose pushed us further and further apart. The ghost pushed us so far apart that we didn’t recognize each other anymore. Who we were to each other. Who we were put on this earth to be.  Our spirits, disconnected, bleeding and  severed by the ghost.

My hope for you, as we travel apart, is for you to be happy. To find that path and walk it with conviction no matter what happens “out there”. To find the challenge instead of the problem. The door, instead of the chains. The gifts and lessons instead of the bitterness, anger and apathy. To find your enoughness.  Wholeness.

Mind, body and spirit…happy. Healthy. To be at peace with yourself and everyone else. Including me.

To rediscover your soul, your inner God and Light that is the safe haven that always provides a resting place within you. And for you to lead and love your life from that space. And to allow the love and light to come pouring in.

Love doesn’t hurt; absence of it causes the suffering. The walls we build, just cause suffering. We think that they protect us from pain, but it’s the exact opposite. They shield us from Love. It is not who we are; it’s simply the ghost again.

To trust love again. To hold it and care for it like a newborn baby; like it is the only thing in this life that matters. Because in the end of everyone’s journey, it’s all that does. I’ve witnessed it time and time again. A lesson I hold deep in my heart, and the path I’ve chosen to walk.

Such is the way stories go sometimes. Sometimes we don’t make it to the end holding hands as we had hoped. Sometimes the path unwinds, love unravels, and dreams fade.

The ghost infiltrates and takes over, until we recognize it, learn. Sometimes never, I guess.

I had to trust and make the difficult choice of when to let the ghost go. One of the most difficult of my life. Because in the process of letting the ghost go, I had to let you go. And I see you, the real you, behind it. Difficult.

If the next door opens it will be different. If not, I’m okay most days.

The ghost is mostly gone from me, and not welcomed back. It has taken some time, and a lot of remembrance. I’ve had to treat myself like a child, go way back, understand..and relearn. A process that will never be done.

The ghost, is no longer welcome here.

My wish, is that you hold  the good stuff in your heart; the many storms we weathered hand in hand, side by side, heart to heart.

I hope you remember the times we felt like one soul in two bodies. I hope that you felt that bliss, too. Because we did have those times. The good stuff.

I hope you hold dearly the lessons and the good stuff. I hope you find the compassion for yourself and others dearest to you; the mechanisms for growth and change. The me and you, you and me. I hope you watch every sunset from the dock, laugh, sing, cry tears of joy, dance, and whatever else makes your soul happiest. I hope that you leave the ghost behind.

I hope you find your way Home again, become alive in the Present, long before you go to rest in our eternal home. I know you are tired, but this is the way.

I pray for you every night. I love you.

Tracings

My promise to you, in 2017.

And when your eyes have dimmed

And you no longer see me through the veil

I will bring your fading mind back to life

Whispering the love songs 

Only you and I have heard

I will open your weary heart

And place my hands inside

Tracing the beautiful story of our life

That I wrote in Braille inside your lungs

With every breath

 I ever took