I have eff'd up. Wait! Let me make it plain. I will call a spade a spade. I have fucked up. I can take that. Admit that. I was arrogant in thinking I would never be "that woman". I am gripping more handily the fact that I have now, after 31 years of living, a single regret. I have vaccilated in describing what that is. Is it that I have lost one of the most treasured individuals in my life? Is it that I have pained that person? Caused the very thing I wanted most to alleviate and shelter them from? I have settled on the latter as it speaks to the person I thought I was, rather who I never imagined I could or would be in any spanse of time.
I lament the state of things. Truly, I do. Rarely is there an idle moment that is not occupied with a thought or memory centered on this person. Love remains. It hurts. The part of me that wants to insist on equity as if I am in any position to negotiate terms and such was supported by a post on Twitter that said (paraphrase)"if the good outweighs the bad, forgive and forget". Honestly, I don't anticipate amnesia. A clearer picture of forgiveness is my hope. Though I am not much on complex mathematical equations, I am pretty efficient in basic multiplication. To the point where I don't need pen and paper or even a calculator to know that 70 multiplied by 7 gives me 490 times to sin, miss the mark, mis-step-- shit, fuck up.
I won't belabor the point. I realize that a resurrection would not make for a regeneration of what we had before. Simply put, shit would change. I get that. I just want the memory of me in this individuals mind to not be summed up by the pain I have regretfully caused. Love abounds!
My lesson...among other things is that “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ~Rumi
Humbled...
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