I hope this email finds you well. Your emails seem to come at the perfect timing, about the right topic.
I’ve always had a problem with holding on and letting go. I’ve always had a problem with saying goodbye.
It’s a scary word, really. It makes all the fears of loosing someone or no-one or even yourself, boil to the surface. What does it mean that bye is attached to the word good? What is so good about leaving someone or something behind? I get the whole, you’re-moving-on-to-something-better bit, but really, nothing ever feels good about saying goodbye.
I ask a lot of questions. I’ve been getting told that often lately and I don’t think it’s being referenced in a positive way. Maybe I’m asking questions about the hard stuff. Maybe expecting someone to have answers isn’t fair. Because the hard stuff is hard. It feels impossible and soul crushing and heartbreakingly hard. Like I’d rather stuff it all into an old mailbox and send it down the river.
The thing is, I’ve always been an “attacher”. Someone who hooks on and hangs tight. Someone who never wants to let go. And there may be a lot of reasons for this type of behavior and my past may play a part in it, but it’s something I don’t know how to change.
I’m trying to do better. To be better. To be different. I’m trying to face things head on and accept them as they are.
I have a safe place, at least I think I do. It used to be safe, it used to feel like home. But then one day the other people that occupied this space made a shift, made a change, said goodbye, and the whole mood in the air changed. It went cold, it went dark, there were mean words and unfair words and sad faces. And as I sat inside this space that I used to think I was welcome in, that I used to feel welcome in…I was no longer sure. I was no longer sure that I should stay. I was no longer sure that staying was an option. People were saying goodbye, did I have to too? Did a shift have to be made in my heart because it was made in theirs? My body shook. I felt like vomiting. I felt the tears leak down my face. I stayed.
And then I left.
And I told myself I would not go back there this week. I told myself it’s just five short days. I can stay away for just five short days. And it got me thinking. It got me thinking that if I didn’t have that safe place to go to, where would I go? Who would welcome me? If I didn’t have those people, who did I have? Who was standing on the battlefield with me when I went through my own war?
I think we think we choose the people we share our hearts with, but really I think our hearts choose. Our hearts know the other good hearts, they know the other good souls. But those good hearts and souls have their moments too, and we have to decide how to move on from there.
I’m a fighter for people. I will put on all the armor, I will gather the weapons, I will fight for you. But I have a hard time fighting for myself. I want to do what’s right for other people, I want to make them comfortable and happy and at peace. But that means I sacrifice my own out there on the playing field. And I loose people I love, friends I can’t replace.
I ask a lot of questions. I don’t know what the answers are. I don’t think I’ll ever really know. The only thing I can do is trust in God. Pray that He calms my hurting heart, pray that He can soothe it. Pray that the people who I think are clothed in armor next to me, really are. People need people. You just have to find the right ones. I think I did. I’m hoping God will let me keep them.
All the best,