Goodbye
This is the time of year where I tend to blink and find myself on the other side of another event, another week, another month. That’s how these past few weeks have gone: passing in a blur of delicious food and time with friends and family. I hope you haven’t minded the break too much. When I started this journey, I promised myself I’d write to you every week, and already I’ve broken that promise. But so it goes with the people you love: that endless asking of grace, and that endless giving. Thank you, dear ones. I hope your holiday season is enchanting and distracting in the best of ways.
I’ll pick up where I left off: the lockdown of 2020, the questioning.
In time, the answer showed itself as clearly as the seasons changing. It was heartbreakingly sad to know I would leave behind the person I loved most in the world. And yet, I couldn’t stand that bitter taste of denial. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what I knew, despite the discomfort. We talked about the feeling, eventually, with frustration and disappointment and the kind of sadness I think you can only ever feel with your first love.
And then, finally, the goodbye.
He was kind, as always, and then he was gone.
For the first time in my adult life, save for my freshman year of college, I was alone. The fear came then, along with doubt. It crawled beneath the covers with me as I watched The Office, chilling my bones and whispering in my ear, “what a mistake you’ve made, stupid girl.” It laughed at me, at my ignorance.
My friends showered me in love, reminding me that connection is so much bigger than one relationship. One morning, amidst my tears, Ethan gave me a shining piece of wisdom I clung to like a life raft:
Honestly, I've never been hurt more by something than leaving someone I love. Even when there was an abundance of reasons for the decision. Ultimately, I've only ever let someone go when I needed to give myself a love that I couldn't with them. Eventually you'll realize you're living a life more aligned to your soul's ambition. And it's there that I think the pain starts to turn into warmth (this happens in waves and in no linear fashion). For now, I think the only obligation you owe yourself is to accept feeling it all: the pain, the relief, the grieving, the fear, the unknown, and the known. And to live fully in the space you've created for yourself with all those emotions. Just keep trusting yourself and the universe. The rest will sort itself out.
So I gave myself to it: the pain, the sadness, the hope. I reminded myself daily that this was all real, and not some sort of dream. I traveled to five cities in four weeks, visiting friends and family and telling the story again and again. I was okay, I said. Sometimes it was true.
When I was finally home again and settled, I saw Ethan for the first time in months. I can’t remember much of what we talked about — just that we wandered that familiar graveyard near our office and then got some mediocre thai food. “Have you thought about dating yet?” He asked. I told him no, that was too scary. “Let me know if you want help making your bumble profile,” he laughed. “You’re going to have a lot to learn!”
And I did, dear ones. I had so much to learn.
With love,
Ky
