Flashback

I slept long hours and very deep, though the thunder was waking me briefly every few hours. It was a perfectly stormy night. I felt engulfed by the clouds, the rain was crying my tears for me, the mighty thunder was roaring on behalf of my pain. 

I saw Chris in the dream, it is exactly 4 years ago since I decided to call things out on our marriage. The love was gone long before I could notice it, I was too busy pushing through like my usual traumatized, survival mode self. If anybody I cared for was struggling, I would take it on me to rescue them. In love, I was the hopelessly romantic, dedicated, devoted, passionate kind. I like to believe I am different now, but alas all the pain, old and new, has only affected the romantic part. Romance isn't for me anymore, I am however still all about passion, fire, commitment, investment, fulfillment, dedication. 

Four years later, and the man whom I loved the most in my entire existence is keeping me hanging, zero effort and no apparent intention in sending me what is needed to settle the divorce as we have agreed several times already. Four years in distance has made me see and learn about Chris and our relationship more than I ever thought I knew or understood in the 10 years of knowing him. The pain gets messy; my mind is utterly confused by my heart, I weep for myself and for him equally. To cause so much suffering for another human being, knowingly, neglectfully, is beyond my understanding. I ought to stop, but I simply can't bring myself to cease this constant nudging desire to understand the true happenings of the heart of that person, whom I wrongly thought I've known so very closely all those years of being together. I sometimes wonder whether or not this coldness of heart, in this way and form, is considered an illness of a sort.

I read and learned a lot about chord cutting, in my desperate attempt to release him even more from my system, on a deep spiritual level. I have done every little thing, thought every little thought, and took every little action I knew that could help with overcoming this attachment of mine to him. In my waking, I know it's been done, but every now and again, he appears in my dream, and I'm anything but loving and missing and longing for him. 

If I play out the entirety of my lifetime in front of me now, there are two moments that stand out the most; birthing Yasmina, and meeting Chris. 

Yasmina is teaching me every new day how she wants to be treated, how she wants this relationship to be, what are her rules, her boundaries, her needs and wishes from me, and I'm adapting, changing, accommodating, and it's working for both of us.

Chris simply abandoned me, our love, us, me, with zero desire to help me through any of it whatsoever. 

My soul has been deeply wounded since my realization of just how reckless and careless he was towards it all. It was never the separation that pained me the most, but rather his lack of interest. That shouldn't have hurt either, we change and evolve, so do our feelings. Love is either there or isn't, and I am mature enough to accept whatever is, because free will is very high up in importance for me. What saddens me however was that he was role playing everything out, just enough to keep me hanging, dedicated, and going, year in, year out, so that it works out for him in the best possible way. In the 8 years of being together as a couple, I changed my life upside down so many different times to please him. He worked on my insecurities, childhood trauma, abandonment issues, and I was repeating the very painful abandonment scenario by being unconsciously a perfect match to him.  

There is no therapy in the conventional way that would offer me what I am giving myself through intense inner work. The mere fact that I could express my thoughts and feelings now means that I've come a long way from hiding and feeling shame and guilt because of things happening to me. This here is my therapy, and I get to finally say the truth in the way I see it and lived it. The truth of my heart and soul, without being interrupted, silenced, belittled, wronged, or called crazy. Chris called me crazy in a humiliating way oh so many times, every single time I spoke the truth. 

My opinion is never needed; they hate me when I speak up, they love me when I take action. 

I've been called all sorts of things in my life, including not so long ago, supposedly playfully: "stupid white bitch" by a lost soul. A tormented little boy inside the body of a grown man, who's so consumed by, and failing at, performing the role of some macho man in his head. I was fooled there too, though for only a short period this time around. These gorwn boys and their mommy issues, I cursed them and their lousy mothers a hundred times for a job so very badly done.

World cup 2018 was very revealing, the contrast between Chris's carelessness towards our relationship and me, and the extreme passion, excitement, dedication and effort to a mere game on the screen, told me everything I needed to know about our relationship, and my true place in it.

Four years ago I used to think that a little time will heal all, and that life goes on. Now I know that there is a chance I might not be able to heal the wound my relationship with Chris has left in me, during this lifetime anyway, and I think I am OK with this notion. 

I keep praying though, for myself, for Chris, for all the tormented souls, for humanity. Everything and everyone is so very interconnected...

If only they see it.