Saturday, 3 August 2013

Moving forward

I've only truly been in love once. The trouble was it didn't appear until late in life and when it did I suddenly realised what an awful sham everything else had been.


Especially as (a) I was married to somebody that I couldn't think of a good reason to not be married to and (b) I was about to embark on a massive life change. It was a bit like the first time you hear a live performance and feel the music and know everything else was just a precursor at best.

So I put the change on hold as I knew that there was something more important.

Then there wasn't. The reality is I always knew this was never going to be more than just a glimpse of would could have been. I hoped, but was realistic.

And then, like Saint Elmo's fire, it was gone. It took time to adjust, to accept. A long time. And there was even one last moment of sublime humiliation before I could say...

It's time to change.

So I placed my heart in a box, tied memories with a ribbon and embraced my future. Whatever it would be.

I can't say it's ideal, I'm still in love for a start, but that's changed form, it's just deeply caring and hoping desperately for somebody else's happiness.

Surely that's the best way to be?

Ultimately I'm scared about my journey, but I also can't see a reason to go back.


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