I’ll admit, I like writing about relationships and the heart and sad moments that crack you wide open to more capacity to love and feel than you’d ever thought possible. Today I write about my experience with loss.
I share this today for art. I share it for you. I share it for the you who has faced loss on any level. While the enlightened us “gets” that there is no actual loss, that when seeming loss occurs its just love taking on new form.
The human us, in the company of fresh heartache, can’t see that just yet. And that’s okay. This one’s for the courageous heart who’s experienced loss and dares to love and love again.
I am grateful for that time when I knew I was losing you.
The fading illusion of our union was picking up it’s relentless speed.
The innocence of our vows rushing into inescapable light,
the ignorant Yeses of our youth now blinding us
revealing how hasty we’d been
to jump into something so grand.
I’m glad I could see our end coming.
So that night as we laid beside each other like we had countless nights
for countless years,
I chose to fully take you in.
Wrapping my arms around you,
giving thanks to God for the warmth of your body.
Even telling you, “I love how warm you are”.
In that moment, I consumed us as completely as I knew how.
Drinking in the greatest comfort I’d come to know.
Shortly after that night,
much sooner than I would have thought,
you were gone.
And you were not like the you I knew,
you were cold.
And the bed was cold.
And I was cold.
A coldness, I thought might surely kill the innocence within me forever.
A thought I felt indifferent about at best.
I moved to New York
where the weather became my trusted friend.
I coldly hurt the ones who tried to love me,
unable to yet bear their closeness.
Every now and then I’d think about you
and how I drank in our warmth those final nights.
Part of me felt pathetic for doing that.
But the innocent me,
the me that never went cold at all,
For more intolerable than the pain of our cold death,
would be the regret of not indulging
in our last warm moments of life.
Pathetic or not,
this is how I love.