running into the arms of sadness

via Pinterest

I'm sad.

It's this weight I can't seem to let go of. It just sits there, in my chest. I escape it in moments -- happy hour with friends, a hot shower, a new dress... but it never fully goes away.

I've been sad before. Or, heartbroken is a better word. When I love someone -- I give it my whole heart. And when the love leaves, I feel like my heart went with it.

In the past I've always tried to escape the feeling of sadness. I'm the one in the relationship who keeps calling, keeps planning, keeps hoping -- because maybe we can make it work. Maybe I can change their mind. Maybe, just maybe -- I can change them. 

If you've ever read Smith + Emma, you know I refer to Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love as my Bible. So, in need of a little faith, I've opened up it up again to remind myself of a few things.

Gilbert and I share similar relationship habits. She says: “I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.” (Can any of you join our club?)

I see what can be. And oh, how beautiful it is. But when reality comes crashing down on me, I'm left with nothing but deep disappointment and a shattered sense of self.

But I have learned something since my last heartbreak (progress, people!). When your relationship comes crashing down around you -- don't try to glue it back together. Because all you've got at this point is some shitty Elmer's glue. And the truth is, no matter how carefully you put each piece back in its place -- we all know that bitch is going to break again.

Maybe, in time, the two of us will glue it back together. But as long as I'm the only one with any glue (and crappy glue at that), I've got to leave the pieces lying there. 

So, I'm sad. And I'm just going to be sad. Gilbert puts the spotlight on loneliness, but her thoughts can be applied to the whole gang of difficult emotions. She says: “When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience..."

This time around, I'm running into the arms of sadness (Okay, maybe I'm not running. It's more a painfully slow dragging of my feet). But -- I will not spend another day chasing love. I'm trusting the Universe or God (that's definitely another post) that this is what is supposed to happen. 

Meanwhile, I'm finding a little bit of hope in Gilbert's words -- “Someday you're gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing...”