According to the dictionary, this is the definition of detach: verb (used with object) to unfasten and separate; disengage; disunite. Yep, that’s it. Disunite. Ouch.

Another definition – let go: allow to escape, set free. Yep, that too. Set free.

I’m evolving without any effort on my part. I’m just noticing that I’m shifting. I’m in a very emotional chapter of my life with big highs and frequent but small lows and I’m here for it. I’ve closed myself off for so long to feeling much of anything that I’ve been appreciating the ride – all of it. I’ve never been so wholly happy in my life. But it’s been clouded by the truth which is this period is just that, a period which has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning was surprising in that there was a beginning at all and for me, was phenomenal. But the beginning soon morphed into the middle after one week which brought so many questions. New information changed the landscape and I found myself feeling very unsure of how to proceed, if at all. But after much deliberation, I made the choice to embrace this middle part of the story and accept the eventual end.

I’ve already written about the luscious beginning of this story. The middle has been unbelievably wonderful and I use that word literally – full of wonder. I have been seeing sights in Hawaii that are spectacular and other worldly. I have been leaning into my feelings of affection vs running which is my normal MO. I’ve spent a fair amount of time with my nervous system screaming at me that I am not safe and I’ve spent an equal amount of time quieting that scared little girl – telling her that she IS in fact safe and this isn’t then. I’ve spent the past few years unlearning overthinking but that indulgence has been rearing its ugly head as of late. It’s a good thing I have a lot of experience using mantras until my head shuts up. “Stay in the moment. Be here, now. What are you seeing? What are you hearing? What are you feeling? What is real?” When I do that, I am able to close my eyes, breathe, and shift. Getting out of my head and into the actual experience takes practice. When this is over, I could teach this stuff, I swear. 

Thanksgiving was two days ago. I intended to spend a lovely day in a beautiful place with an amazing man being grateful but Mother Nature had other ideas. It rained most of the day with only very brief breaks – nothing long enough to get outside. So I sat inside, watched the rain, and was in my head in a big way. I realized, this is the beginning of the end. The end is near. And as a result with no deliberate decision, I noticed I was letting go. I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen but I surely thought that process wouldn’t begin until after the man that I’m dating moved away but much to my dismay, it is happening now. One of the great things about this situation is that it’s not slippery. From the moment I learned that the future wasn’t going to be how I wanted it to be, the story has been unwavering. That, in itself, is a departure from what I typically experience. The result of that steadiness of narrative is that I don’t have hope and for me, that’s legitimately a positive. It’s firm footing from which to move forward. I’ve always said I’m the most hopeful hopeless person you’ll ever meet. I’ve already discussed how I have previously had this life long belief that good things don’t happen to me in my life, but for some reason, I’ve been able to find hope in little moments and latch onto those. I can create enormous stories out of the tiniest glimmer of hope. Unfortunately most of those times, I’ve been left feeling disappointed and betrayed which is why the generalized self protective hopelessness has been a pervasive theme. But I digress, giving context around why I’m more than Ok with feeling hopeless today. I suppose it also harkens back to another very similar situation in my past that went very differently based on who he was and who I was at the time. I’ll take a quick trip down memory lane to share this story then return to today – hope you can follow along. They’re my musings, after all. This is how my thoughts go.

When I was in college, I was dating a man for about a year. At the end of one school year, we hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks as he’d gone home to his parents in another town and I to mine. I was so looking forward to our first day together and it was, as it had been previously, epic. We did incredible things together during the day and capped off our day by spending the night together. However this night, instead of having intimate time, he kissed me on the forehead and put me to bed in another room. I was confused. When I questioned him, we had to “talk.” Unbeknownst to me, he’d decided that in the fall, he would not be returning to college but rather, going to Europe and therefore, we would no longer be together. He’d also decided that while it was only the beginning of the summer, we were done now. I was devastated. I cried. I begged. It wasn’t one of my finer moments but it’s just how it was for me. I think he continued to date me that summer out of pity, if I’m being honest. But unfortunately, because he didn’t cut it off cleanly, in my immature mind, it negated what he’d said and allowed me to live in denial. He gave me mixed messages and I chose the messages I wanted to believe and plug my figurative ears for the others. As a result when he did in fact go to Europe and eventually return home to college, I really thought I had a chance to resume our relationship. Spoiler alert – that didn’t happen. He moved on and I was heartbroken yet again. It wasn’t his fault. We were very young. He didn’t want to hurt me so he was doing the best he could. He was just a free spirit with a life plan that didn’t include a girlfriend – much less me personally. He was doing him. I wanted something different. But he wasn’t doing this TO me. He was just moving on.

How does this story inform today? It’s similar, right? I meet a man, feel all the feels, create a story for the future, he has a different future planned, he leaves. So how is this different? It’s very different. (Coincidentally, I told this story to the man in my life today and it influenced how he was going to deal with me. I think it’s part of why he told me of his plans before I got in WAY over my head and for that, I have the utmost respect for him.) The first thing that is different is that we are 57, not 20. So much life experience (and therapy) has happened along with just plain old maturity being a thing. I was able to listen to his actual words and not fill in the blanks with made up nuances that tried to tell me that the outcome would be different than what I was being told. Since I made the decision to enjoy our time together, I’ve talked myself through the construction and dismantling of the fantasy. I will look at him with possibility and remind myself that possibility is right here, right now, and nothing more, and that’s Ok. It’s freeing, honestly. Because we aren’t building a relationship, there’s so many conversations that just don’t need to happen. We don’t need to know if we align on critical issues. It doesn’t matter (although we do align on many, if not most). We don’t need to iron out logistics of day to day life – division of labor in the house, who cooks and who cleans, spending vs saving, family connections, work/life balance, none of it, which allows us to truly just be. Together. Until we aren’t anymore.

Which brings me back to detachment and letting go, disunite and set free. When I chose to stay, I also chose to not pull back with my emotions but it turns out that might be part of the sympathetic nervous system. My nervous system sees a threat on the horizon so it’s putting in place all the things necessary for me to weather this circumstance. I don’t like it as much as I do like it. There’s a peace about it – most of the time. Sure, the tears are constantly trying to emerge and show the world the sorrow I have in my heart but that sorrow is infinitely eclipsed by the joy and happiness that dwells there as well because I had this beautiful, magical relationship (yep, I said it) with the most incredible human I’ve ever met.

Another definition. Bittersweet: adjective both pleasant and painful or regretful. He’s asked me two questions. First question was when he told me he was moving. “If you knew you couldn’t have something as long as you wanted, would you still want it?” That question took 12 hours to answer. The second question, more recently was, “do you regret staying with me?” That question took a nanosecond to answer. Never. Absolutely not. So while bittersweet is both pleasant and painful – which it absolutely has been and at times has made me wince for a minute, NEVER regretful. I would meet this man again in an instant fully knowing he would only exist in my world for 7 weeks.

So the choice becomes acceptance, doesn’t it? Let’s look at that. Accept: verb to agree or consent to; accede to. Nope. Don’t like that. How about acknowledge: verb to admit to be real or true; recognize the existence, truth, or fact of OR to show or express appreciation or gratitude for. Yep. That’s it. Truth. Fact. Appreciation. Gratitude.

As I sit here trying to find a sentence or two to close this post out, I’m realizing we don’t always get to orchestrate the ending how we would like. Sometimes things just end.