They left you.
Just up and
packed, (or more confusingly, didn’t even bother to pack) and just up and left
you. What the fuzzylumpkins.
Up. And gone.
And just like
that your world comes crashing down.
You are hurt,
disappointed, angry, confused, you feel betrayed, rejected, neglected. And
confused. But the one thing you should not be, is surprised. And why not?
Because if no one else did, even if they did not, you knew it was coming. You,
knew.
Go ahead,
shake your head, drop your jaw, be adamant, outraged even, use a variety of
edited or unedited expletives to abuse my good nature and when you’re finished
we’ll pick up where you jumped off, because like it or not, it’s true. You,
knew.
Take a moment.
Breathe. Pause. Ponder. Feel the cold chill of the frostbite of reality creep
up from the small of your back, feather its cold touch across your shoulders
and suddenly drop with an alarming audible thud into your gut. Swallow. Exhale.
And then, slowly, slowly, accept. Yes. There it is. You knew.
Because
there’s one unspoken truth that we all know and refuse to give voice to. The
day that they left. The night. The moment. That was not the time that they left
you. You got left a long time ago. That was just the day, the night, the
moment, the deal was sealed. And now it’s official. You got left.
If only you
had seen the signs you could have been prepared. You could have donned your
armor and Jimmy Choos (but of course, one
must look the part) and been ready to do battle. But my dearest, the signs
were there, you just chose to ignore them.
If it starts wrong, it can only end wrong. Yes,
I went all the way back to the beginning, sometimes that’s when the end got
started. Where there things at the very start that kind of nagged at you?
Things you were willing to ignore or maybe compromise on? Sure they were. And
some of those things were okay. Some of those things were really not. Either
severity you could probably have gotten through if, (stay with me here), if there were things you let go. (Ah hah!) The past can be like a lit
stick of dynamite. You can’t help but see the glow of the wick, especially in
the impending darkness but if either of you left that flame still glowing, even
if ever so slightly, then at some point it is going to blow. Right up in your
face. And on out the door.
Little foxes grow up into raging bears.
Foxes are not quiet by nature and when well fed can become roaring monsters. (Not to give bears a bad name but you get my
drift). The little niggling, nagging, nonsense cannot be swept under the
rug indefinitely. At some point that rug will get mighty lumpy and one
misplaced step will bring all that dirt rushing out to your mutual horror and
detriment. Deal with the issues as they come. If not you will suddenly discover
you talk less and argue more. Feelings of frustration, separation and isolation
become common place and you’d rather be alone and at peace than together and at
war. Once you’ve dealt with those issues however, be sure to release them as
they go. If not all you’re doing is packing them away, making moving out that
much easier.
The commit part in commitment gets omitted.
As clear a sign as one can get, yet, the easiest one to bypass. Things change,
people change, this is most certainly true. But in changing you should be
growing together, not apart. If you are spending less and less quality time
together and nothing is being done to solve that, the outcome is simple. Fail.
Catastrophic error eminent. And that as
they say, is that.
You can, if so
inclined, find ways to salvage your relationship. Providing that both of you
still believe it is worth salvaging. Or you can (which I recommend) get over it, change gears, shift and move on.
Ok, so you got
left. I am sorry. It sucks. Toughen up, wise up and return to the battlefield.
Next time around you will be better equipped to spot the signs early promising
a positive outcome is already more likely in your favor. And just in case all still
doesn’t go to plan, then perhaps you will be the one to pack it up and leave.
Knowing when to shoot a limp horse is braver than trying to drag the near-dead
body over the finishing line.
I’m sure by
now the message has been delivered. Leave, breathe and let go.
Roger that
captain. Over and out.
