It’s politically incorrect to miss my husband.

And believe me, I do NOT miss the ‘him’ of today.

I just miss ‘him.’

The person I thought I knew.

The guy who made my world feel safe – watched The Notebook with me – and listened to my deepest fears and greatest hopes.

I miss ‘him’ – that guy.

He was, after all, the one I married – wasn’t he??

The young handsome love of my life who I believed would walk the world with me.

He would never leave. On the contrary, he would stay a step ahead of me swiping at the bad guys. He would keep everything right in my world.

Yet, he did leave.

I would ultimately come to accept he was never ‘that guy.’

The good news?

Sure, in its entirety the healing is not yet over. The drama is still intermittently in full swing and sadly, seems as though it hasn’t even hit intermission.

But…

Knowing that I miss ‘him’  despite an ugly relationship ending – means…

One day I will be able to look back and tell my children about this guy who as a nineteen-year-old college co-ed made me think he hung the moon. A guy who mesmerized me. Made me laugh like no other and who once made me feel as if we were the only two people in the world.

A guy whose best friends were my best friends.

The kind of young love that makes invincible seem logical. The type of emotion and innocence and naivete which youth fosters.

I will be able to tell my children, that though they may remember in the forefront leaving a love which seemed used up and miserable and disagreeable and dysfunctional they were born of…

Extraordinary love.

The kind that left two people talking for hours until the morning light.

That made the thought of being without one another unbearable.

That for so very many years felt right.

And safe and loving and limitless.

That the day will come when they can convert the pain of two people who just weren’t able to get it right for them with the incredible gift of realizing…

What wilted was once wondrous.

Letting go of love is ugly. It breaks us.

And just as forgiveness signifies letting go…

Every child is the result of a love holding on.

I will always miss ‘him.’

I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t.

Only ‘he’ and ‘I’ no longer exist.

Our time together was at once ‘everything’ and now ‘nothing.’

The conundrum of the heart.

holding on and letting go…

nothing and everything

And how somehow we miraculously heal despite these extraordinary contradictions.

(Photo courtesy of Pexels)

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