Everything passes in time. I know that.
Recently I decided to mark a new start in my life, one of staying single, by completely renewing my mattress, pillows and duvet.
I expected it to be like a cleansing, out with the old and in with the new and all that… but what I didn’t expect was for it to open up a can of worms in my mind and heart again.
I have been thinking about how all this made me feel, and I know it is all part of a “mourning” process, memories and thoughts that had begun to fade, came back with thumping bang… and knocked me a bit sideways.
I now fully understand how, when someone dies, people are sometimes slow to get rid of personal belongings. Although my loss was not a death, it did feel like it. It was just so unexpected and final. In all honesty, it is a death. Not only did I lose my lover, but a woman who I thought was my best friend and companion for life.
I understand death, maybe it’s my job and the hundreds of families I have dealt with over the years, who all cope in their own individual ways…. But loss of a lover is one of those storms in your life that spins you and flings you in all directions.
Death is final. There are no second chances or “what if’s” … but losing a lover, even through the hurt can still leave you with hope that there will be a realisation by your ex lover over what they have lost.
Maybe this is my final hurdle, I hope it is, so I can move on, in the way I want to, with my own life.
I know that the urges of passion die down and when that does go, you are either left with something very special, or nothing. Perhaps the problem is mine, maybe I see love in a different way … I don’t see it as an open pair of legs and sex every night of the week, to me that is a shallow love, a physical need rather than an emotional connection … I see love as peace and comfort and feeling happy and secure with someone, that you just want to make happy and protect…. I have always said that my favourite part of sex is afterwards, in the calm, in the peace and the closeness that it brings. That to me is love.
But all I know is that I understand death, I don’t understand love.
Brae. A gay woman's tale! 