A few weeks ago the last person I ever thought would ever contact me, did. And he did so because he stumbled across my last blog post and he was concerned. After initially being gobsmacked and engaging in polite niceties, which all went well. Me being me, couldn't leave it at that, so after a little reflection I wrote the following message to him.
1,026 words.That's roughly how many words you wrote in your message to me.
5,298 characters. Woven together to turn words into sentences
For me. Thank you.
When we spoke a couple of weeks ago, you mentioned that you had been thinking of me all week. Which was very sweet and I was a little surprised by. I was remarkably chilled out prior to our reconnecting over the phone. Actually so much so that I wondered if maybe I just assumed that I wouldn't actually hear your voice on the phone that day. Your admission to thinking of me all that week, has now led to my admission that I have been having conversations with you in my head since we spoke. I hope this doesn't get weird, please know it is with genuine, heartfelt authenticity that I want to share my thoughts with you. Recovering from a very traumatic mental breakdown is difficult. Hence it is extremely important to me to connect genuinely with people and to also do so in way that my integrity is intact. It is even more important and meaningful when said people have a realm of understanding of who I am and how my cogs work, for lack of a better term. I'm sure you know what I mean. Some people are just "your" people, and those people are magic.
Anyway. I'm getting stuck in the weeds of my own thoughts. This might be long. Quite likely longer than your 5,298 characters and 1,026 words.
My apologies in advance.
When your message popped up, I thought perhaps you were just sending a spam thing, perhaps you had been hacked. When I opened it and started reading, I would be lying if I didn't say my heart started racing a bit. Whatever compelled you to send me that message, I am so grateful for it. It made me feel seen. You read my blog. No one reads my nonsense anymore. Apart from me. So thank you, my words are important to me and I am always hopeful they might help someone. But in a peculiar, roundabout way, it has helped someone. Me. If you hadn't read my blog, perhaps you would have never sent me your message. You mentioned my impact being further than I think. I don't ever really ponder if people in my past, or present for that matter, have been impacted positively (or negatively) by our mutual interactions. Which is silly of me, as I always think of people who have made and are making important ripples in my life. You are certainly one of those people. When we spoke, I feel like I got stuck in the weeds of life. The mundane, mediocrity of parenthood. And obviously we have some relatability with our special needs children. All valid and important subjects, they are of course our beautiful humans we made, despite the challenges. Children kind of take over your life in a way that no one can prepare you for. I enjoyed our conversation about our children, though I hope I didn't say anything aloof or flippant. My approach to parenting is probably not traditional, and my way of coping or lack there of, is probably the same. Survival strategies are involved.
So in a way we are both ripples in each other's lives. Enough so for you to extend a hand of care and concern and consideration through time and space. And certainly a lot of time has past. You are a significant ripple in my life. That teenage girl I once was, was so desperately in love with you. Intensely so. I was never very good at regulating those intense emotions. And it's unfair to think that a teenage boy could even hold space for such things. It really is an impossibility. I sometimes think it is still an impossibility for anyone to hold space for my intensity. Life and maturity may have happened, but that intensity still exists and is channeled into other things, and probably internalised quite a bit too. I am sorry for my introspection, I find it loathsome to be so, there is a self absorption about it that feels a bit pathetic. But bear with me. Hopefully you will find something of value in my ramblings.
You did your best to hold space for me during our moment in time. But we were kids navigating an alien world of big human emotions. I remember all those times fondly. I have vivid memories of many moments with you, our time together was a bit of magic. But for a very long time those memories hurt. Profoundly so. After it all ended, I would wait for you to return my phone calls. I would sit in my front yard looking up towards where you lived. I would watch out for you at school or the shops. I would write endless journal entries about you. I remember bumping into you at the library when I was with a friend. It was probably the first time you hadn't avoided me and you spoke to me like a friend again. You were going into town to buy shoes. You invited me along. I remember so desperately wanting to go with you, maybe this would be a chance to reconnect. But my friend talked me out of it and said she would be super pissed off if I left with you. It felt like a sliding doors moment. And it felt like a test from you. Would I pick you or my friend? Maybe you just wanted the company, maybe you were going to introduce me to your new girlfriend, maybe you did want to reconnect, I don't really know. But it always felt significant. And I always felt regret. I am sorry for getting into awkward specifics, but moments in time hold meaning and lessons. Would you believe that only this year I shredded all those journals I wrote. I hadn't read any of them in over 20 years, and when I did flick through them at the beginning of this year, all I can say is ugh. All that teenage angst. Why was I still holding on to these naive moments in time?
It was a cringefest to read some of those journals, but that doesn't mean the feelings and emotions weren't any less real and intense. The ripple of you in the early days was immense. Even when I had moved on and had other relationships, I would still feel that pang of heartache. I remember when I was spending time with another friend and pining over you. She convinced me that you hadn't broken my heart and that I didn't know what I was talking about. She was wrong. When I look over the timeline of significant relationships I have had. Those special people I have loved. You are the one that broke my heart. And I always had a sense like you were the one that got away. As cliche as it sounds. Your ripple on my life extended so far. In 1999 - 2000, I was studying art in town. My bus went past you one afternoon. There you were. I had heard that you studied in town. I wasn't sure at the time. I would hear about you, what you were up to occasionally. I'm not sure how or who told me snippets of things. But any information was always met with that pang of sadness. After I had my first daughter, I began writing her letters in a journal. It still exists today, but it now is for all the children. An entry on 9th November 2004, I spoke of having painful memories, ones coming back to haunt me. A heartbreak I hoped they would never have, but they likely would. Regret for having not said and done things differently. For feeling like there was never any closure. A bittersweet memory of a boy I loved. This is all likely making you feel uncomfortable, I am sorry if that's the case. I have been given an opportunity to speak a truth from my heart and I hope you can receive it with as much care and consideration as when you sent your initial message to me. There are no expectations or explanations necessary. I merely want to convey the way you have weaved through my life, even in your absence from it. Your presence was felt.
Lastly, up until as recently as perhaps 2007 maybe later, I can't quite remember. It was probably around the time Facebook happened and your profile mentioned you worked at a local cafe. A friend and I had lunch there one day and I remember feeling incredibly nervous that I might bump into you. 20+ years later. Some of it was insecurity. I'm older and have found my share of wrinkles and extra fat cells. Yes, there was probably a bit of vanity involved. Much of it was probably fear and maybe you wouldn't remember me? Hence why it is interesting that after so many years of feeling sadness and like you have weaved in and out of my life indirectly, I found myself relatively chilled out about speaking to you recently. So much so that after we spoke, I was like "I should go visit him at work and have a coffee, that would be fun." Don't worry, my life is bonkers, so I doubt I will be making a spontaneous coffee visit anytime soon. You are clearly a chapter of life that no longer haunts me, the sadness and heartache left a long time ago. Now I feel a sense of reverence when reflecting on our time together. The ripple of you on my life is long and meaningful. And I am thankful for it, even the sad bits. I find you in people. There is a tiny bit of you in my partner. And one of my greatest, dearest friends in the world reminds me of you. He is the friend that implored me to organise an emergency respite plan for the children. He is very supportive and helpful. I love him very much. Probably more than I care to admit to him or myself. He is another one of my magic people who I adore and love. Love is ever expanding, it knows no limits. I don't think anyone quite realises that until they have children. You don't think you could possibly hold more love in your heart than you have for your first child, and then you have a second child and then perhaps another. And there it is, more love. Love has so much intensity and dimension and complexity and richness. Love is the meaning of life. It connects us to people and places, and inspires and compels our experiences. Love saved me last year. And continues to do so. The love for my children. And the love my partner has for me, that continues to keep me safe and secure. He provides a stable platform for me and almost effortlessly holds space for my neuroticism and intensity, most of the time. I don't think he even knows he's doing it, it is just his default setting to be a shock absorber of sorts. I adore him for that nonetheless.
Thank you for sending me that message. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to hear your voice again. I recently came across the idea that future events can impact the past. A weird quantum dimension theory. I like to think that there is a young girl in that past dimension whose heart has healed from this future ripple. And I am sure she is eternally grateful and sends her love.
I feel like that quote you mentioned about people returning to themselves, to who they really are inside. It's important. A resonance of truth. Perhaps we are all on a journey to return to ourselves. Life is a circle. Finding the correspondences, like pebbles on our way back home. I know life gets in the way and I have no expectation. But I am ever hopeful that we have a chance to speak to each other again.
Take care. Much love.
The words I wrote above were received well from my friend, my first love from long ago.
It makes my heart happy and makes my soul shine brighter that I have had opportunities to reconnect with old friends and old loves and to make amends. Shifts are happening in life, the planet, the cosmos. Hearts are healing. And that dimensional soul separation I spoke of in my last post is subsiding. If we have a choice, choose the dimension of love and light and laughter and joy. Though, I still feel sadness and lonely and stuck in my life. My mental health is stable. My breakdown strangely feels like a week ago and 10 years ago, simultaneously. But I do reflect and wonder what the point of it all was, just to still be here feeling sad and lonely and stuck. Yet there is an anticipation for tangible happy changes just over the horizon. Always striving for the love and joy and peace, if only in the moments. Where ever you are, whoever you are, if you're reading this, take a moment for yourself today. Breathe consciously, look at the sky, stars, moon. Enjoy a tree, give it a hug. Lay on the grass and cloud watch. We are all a part of something that is bigger than ourselves. And as silly as it sounds, I think consciously taking notice of that helps transcend ourselves and our suffering. I am thankful for that. Walking down memory lane, reminds me of where I came from and how I became who I am. With a sense of hopeful trepidation, I look forward to the me I will become.
Stay safe. Take care.
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