Why does love hurt so much? This is the question I posed to my mentor and his response was, “That’s the question of the year.” The day my mother died; the weather was perfect. The days before and after, not so much, but that heart crushing day was warm and sunny. I was sitting on my front porch with my future ex-husband and said, “Maybe that’s all there is. We’re born, if we’re lucky, we love and then we die.” I’m an extremely passionate soul. I feel so much, much more than the average individual. I feel enough for I’d say, at least three people, maybe more. So, when I love, it’s intense.
Many moons ago, while at a renaissance fair, I had my handwriting analyzed. This petite woman sat there so calm and poised as I wrote out the paragraph, she gave me to scribe. When I handed it to her, she gasped! “My god, such passion! You either hate things or love them, there’s no middle ground.” Yep, that’s me in a nutshell. I’m either all in or way the fuck out. I will boldly march into love; deaf, dumb and blind and live it, to its fullest extent till one of us screams “Uncle!”. When I’m done, I’m done, or am I? No, I think once one loves, one will always love. Maybe not like anymore, but there will always be love.
I can make that statement about so many different aspects of my life. Hobbies, career choices, Kevin Spacey, but none truer than the men I’ve had affairs with. I will always love my ex-husband. He was not only my first love, but he is the father of my children, my greatest loves. I’ve been asked how I could even speak to my ex again, but holding onto the anger of how he destroyed our lives with drugs and alcohol could never serve me, only ruin me. Therefore, I forgive, but never, ever forget. It’s not like we’re buddies, we rarely communicate these days, but whenever I gaze upon my sons, both of them, I see aspects of their father, good and bad, but cherished.
My youngest son is the spitting image of me, yet there are times I see his father. He definitely has his intelligence and possibly, his superiority complex, but his face, his profile, is definitely me. As of late, he has adopted his father’s like of donning dew rags and sunglasses. How I hated when my ex took up that fashion, but on my son, not so much. When he first sported this fashion statement, I giggled. The more he did it, I became worried about what it might mean. Now, I see it’s a part of the man he is becoming.
He recently graduated college and accepted his first job. I was not pleased with this decision at all. I felt that they were low balling him, on top of it being a long commute, I did not agree with his decision. To help put my mind at rest, I did some research on this company and asked my son questions about the benefits they were offering him. “How much is the health insurance going to cost you?” “What’s their 401K matching look like?” To which he responded, “I don’t know.” Flames shot out of the top of my head! How can someone be so book smart and not have the common sense to ask these questions and blindly accept an offer which I felt was beneath him? How? Because even though he looks like a man, this is his first real job experience and he just doesn’t know to ask such questions. After all, they don’t teach these important questions in school, now do they?
He was able to obtain the information I sought and although the answers weren’t amazing, they were weren’t bad either. As I began to calm down, I now posed more common-sense questions that would give him the necessary tools to succeed. “Do you have the clothes you’ll need to wear for this job?” “When’s the last time you had the oil changed on your car? Is it up for the daily commute?” “What is your plan for quick breakfasts? Lunches?” Yes, I am a mom, but these are important questions and fortunately, he agreed and took action.
As he left for his first day of work, he was excited! The first day of his new adventure, it was like watching him let go of my hand and easily walk away from me to go to his first day of school…heartbreaking. I’ve given him all that I can to hopefully bring him success, to safely venture forward, without me. Gut wrenching pain…pride…pain…happiness…pain, the tears flowed. Why does love have to hurt so much?
The answer: Because it hurts when you care so much about someone that they are a piece of your heart. No matter what happens, no matter if you don’t like them anymore or what they are doing, the love will always remain. They are a cherished piece of you, a best part of you, thriving in another soul. Of course, it hurts silly goose! It’s everything, everything you’ve ever wanted, so beautiful and perfect…it’s you!
If we’re lucky, we love. And I am very lucky, indeed.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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