i just saw a picture of someone i dated. ten years ago. (first of all, TEN years ago?! what?) and i just said to myself: “i had sex with this man.” i was baffled. not that he is a hideous creature or a wretch of a person, but i could not recognize him. not literally, exactly. but he seemed a stranger to me. i realized i could probably walk past him on the street and be able to not give him a second glance. well, knowing me, my spidey sense would give something away, but looking at this picture, i realized that i couldn’t remember anything. i couldn’t recall any of the feelings that were so incredibly wonderful, so intoxicating, so romantic. fortunately, i also couldn’t remember any of the heartbreak, any of the despair, any of the emptiness i felt at the conclusion of it all.
i was left asking, who was that? who was that man? and who was i? who were those people? it seems as if it was in an alternate universe or a different century. that i have a vague idea of those people and i know the story, but there just isn’t any power to it anymore. i think that if you had asked me yesterday, i still would have said i would have been afraid to run into him. scared of him, even. but i’m not anymore. i’m not even sure who that is. i don’t know what he would think about all of this. he might have 1,000 scathing words for me. he might tell you he remembers every single thing we did and every single conversation we had.
i thought i would have, if you asked me 10 years ago. but gratefully, i don’t. and gratefully, it means i also don’t have any more emotion attached to it, either. time is a funny thing. it’s elastic and it’s just not as linear as people would want you to believe. it’s stretchy and loopy and it does funny things to your brain and to your heart and to your soul. there’s that old cliche that “time heals all wounds.” most of the time, i’d be hard-pressed to disagree, really. but just like a cut on your leg or hand or anywhere on your body, sometimes you have to open it up, debride it, let it bleed and then let it heal right.
in coffee club, there’s homework for that. i’ve been procrastinating on mine for awhile. i’ve known that i need to do it, but there was something in that last sentence that made even more sense than anything i’ve said or heard. i want the same kind of gentle peace and freedom and forgiveness that i have around this relationship around all my relationships. it frees me up to be useful to other people and to get closer to my connection with god. yeah, god. i hate typing that, but it’s the easiest word to describe what it is. it’s also the most spring-loaded word, but fuck it.
so, i started one place and ended up in another. isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last.