Fragile

Life is fragile.  I learned this lesson again recently.  A year and a half ago when, after being in an intense, intimate relationship with a man I thought I’d marry, I had my heart broken into a million little pieces.  The events that took place at the end of our relationship coincided with the end of a contract job I was working and a months-long medical mystery which sent me into a downward spiral of emotion.  I went into a severe emotional black hole like nothing I’d ever experienced before.  There wasn’t a day that I could hold back the flood of tears.  They’d appear at any given moment, whether an appropriate time or not.  I could be having lunch with a friend, standing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store, or in the middle of Ustrasana camel pose in Bikram yoga class when the dam would break and the tears would flow incessantly.

The last year and a half has been the single most challenging and strenuous battle of my life.  Becoming aware that I was in a full-blown depression didn’t ease the pain and it wasn’t life changing like you might imagine.  Instead of the recognition motivating me to live life, I found myself wallowing, sleeping, crying, alienating myself from friends and family and cocooning myself in the comfort of my room.

At a much slower pace than I care to admit, I began taking baby steps to pull myself out of the darkness, at first having breakfast with a girl friend and eventually branching out to dinners and concerts.

Just a couple of months ago, I was having dinner with my family to celebrate my nephew’s 12^th birthday when I happened to glance at my email on my handy dandy iPhone.  I was stunned to see a Facebook message notification from a familiar name.  My heart stopped momentarily.  The message, from a past long-distance love, which I’d spent a year and a half of my life trying to maintain a relationship with until it eventually fell apart in a dramatic, anger-filled blowup, was an attempt to reconnect.  I had no idea what to think so I put my phone away and continued on with the celebration.

That evening when I got home, I prepared myself for bed and went right to sleep, never giving the message another thought… until the next day when I was at work checking email.  I suddenly knew exactly what I needed to do.  I opened the message on Facebook and re-read it.  His words were genuine and kind, as I remember him to be when we first met.  He wasn’t forceful or intrusive, simply wanting to say hello and see how I’d been doing.

I began typing and the words just came.  It was short but to the point.  I was hesitant to go into too much detail and uncertain of what I should say but he had made the effort to reach out and I needed to respond.  Our relationship had ended surrounded by so much anger and I spent years filled with animosity toward him.  I felt betrayed and had a huge sense of loss when he left, a big gaping hole in my life.  I could feel myself letting go of it all as my fingers tapped away at the keyboard.

We feverishly exchanged messages.  He admitted his cowardice and apologized for all the pain and hurt he had caused me.  It was a tremendous relief on my psyche.  I felt the burden of weight being lifted as I typed the words… “I forgave you a long time ago.”  My heart was free. 

We finally exchanged phone numbers.  My text message dinged immediately.   Many words of guilt, sadness, happiness, love and regret passed between us and as they did, the man I knew was being welcomed back into my life with open arms.

Growing up.  Timing.  Divine intervention.  Whatever you call it, my heart is smiling.