Losing him, finding me - I was 34 when I met him. My life was in tatters, 12 years of marriage had just blown in my face. He did not declare undying love, just admitted his lust. Yet he was supportive.
Marriage is the end of any decent relationship; a pre-divorce ceremony, he said and I got the message. Marriage or no marriage, I was ready to play the housewife. Having experienced how temporary so many things, including life itself could be, I decided to follow my heart and packed my bags.
I did not crave changes and settled in the role of a wife without the legal sanction. With time, the balance in our relationship changed; of course no relationship is ever perfect and has to be constantly worked upon, I told myself. Whenever the very traits that irked me became way too much, I reminded myself that I had the option of walking away.
But no matter what, I never confronted him. After eight years of being together, he proposed marriage while we holidayed in India. It should have been romantic but it was not. All I could think of were unaddressed personality issues and relationship matters that I had until now shoved under the carpet.
Marriage is the end of any decent relationship; a pre-divorce ceremony, he said and I got the message. Marriage or no marriage, I was ready to play the housewife. Having experienced how temporary so many things, including life itself could be, I decided to follow my heart and packed my bags.
I did not crave changes and settled in the role of a wife without the legal sanction. With time, the balance in our relationship changed; of course no relationship is ever perfect and has to be constantly worked upon, I told myself. Whenever the very traits that irked me became way too much, I reminded myself that I had the option of walking away.
But no matter what, I never confronted him. After eight years of being together, he proposed marriage while we holidayed in India. It should have been romantic but it was not. All I could think of were unaddressed personality issues and relationship matters that I had until now shoved under the carpet.
What had not bothered a 'partner' should not be addressed as a wife. But these issues had bothered me and now I could not bring them up. Ever! Over a carat solitaire engagement ring and wedding band were unceremoniously put on my finger while still in the shop. No exchange of vows or popping of champagne.
Virtues of marriage solemnised in India versus England were discussed, tension mounted and I did not know how to handle them. Then arrived the death knell of our relationship and devastation struck. He opted out. I was dumped and could not even ask why. He was always prone to spells of silence rather than working at it. Heartbroken at 42, without a bank balance, and no longer employable in an office job, I grieved.
I was willing to try anything, yes, even the tantrik who advertised black magic on railway track walls, if that helped in any possible way. I just wanted him back in my life. I met a horoscope reader who read the charts; even a crystal gazer who told me about my past life encounters with him; apparently in one I had even committed suicide for him. I was tempted to do it again.
I was going mad. I began meditation and it helped. Somebody mentioned a healer-a past life therapist who could help. Of course, I was going to try that too. The therapist was young, soulful and did a combination of therapies to reach the subconscious through meditative hypnotic state. She asked me to write a letter to him. Then to imagine and write a letter from him to me.
Then she started those deep meditation sessions where I was to seek and offer forgiveness. Each stage took me a step forward but I would silently slide two steps back. The pain of rejection, the inability to comprehend it, the desire to recapture what had been lost all continued. Identifying and addressing all the issues that had bothered me while I was with him under deep meditation, I spoke about the frustrations of not telling him so much while we were together. One session began ordinarily.
She counted me deep and we began on now familiar ground. Was he generous? Yes, he always got me what I wanted. What was his first gift? What made you happy about it? Memories flooded and I recounted some thoughtful gestures, some frivolous items acquired on the spur of the moment.
How he had managed to wean me away from desiring too much because he would just buy it for me! And what was his best gift ever? He left me. Did I really say that? Yes, I did and after that no amount of prodding could stop the tears flowing out from under closed eyelids.
He left me and I thought that was his best gift? I was either crazy or demented. I thought his dumping me was a gift to me? A final gift? Surpassing all the material things or even all the mental support of eight years? And I still wanted him, I pined for him years after he left me? What was I? And why was I behaving this way? The session ended in heavy silence.
For weeks I would remember the session and cry inconsolably. I was in deep mourning. Finally, one day I understood. I had merged myself too deep in and around him, maybe it suffocated him. He gifted me to myself. He forced me to become a whole self again. Of course, I still think of him, miss him and think about the fun moments spent together.
But now I appreciate that today I am who I am because he left me. I have decided to nurture the pain and make something positive of it. Sometimes we have to break a heart for the soul to heal and that is his gift to me. Thank you, Kevin. ( Prevention )
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