Here I was sleeping on a yoga mat on my office floor. The soft folk sounds of David Gray filling the space between the road noise and the hum of street lamps. I had been in this scene before. Except it was almost 12yrs earlier.
Before I met my soon to be ex-spouse I lived in the corner of an attic with no less than seven room mates. My bed was also the floor, a small blanket and a ragged pillow. To the side, a very small handful of clothes, and my only other two possessions; a old Mac G3 and an acoustic guitar. Each night I'd soothe myself to sleep with the sultry tunes of David Gray. He always reminded of Bob Dylan with a modern flair. Not as prolific of a song writer as Dylan but still brilliant nonetheless.
12yrs ago I was a part time janitor and a fledgling folk musician. I dreamed of touching souls of people across America. I wanted to extract the musical art from my life like a serum and inject it into other lonely persons. At that time a casual melon collie painted my life in a way like an old familiar shirt. It felt natural, it felt even comfortable.
12yrs ago I thought I was a poet and a bohemian preacher. 12yrs ago I was delusional but sincere. Yet, 12yrs ago I had found love. Or at least looking back at our failed marriage I had found an object with whom to be devoted to.
I threw myself into our relationship like I threw myself into my dreams. With reckless abandon. Eventually I placed music down to pursue an older and more genetic calling, visual arts. Something I was too afraid to run towards before.
I've always loved story telling. There's just something about a narrative that's intoxicating. From the early days on my grandpa's knee when he would tell me his navel adventures, to religious lectures about supernatural Jewish prophets. A story is even greater I discovered when it's told with the intent to be believed. Faith is like that, there's a balance between belief in something, and belief of something. I never believed in divorce yet it happened to me when I was a kid. My parents got divorced. I always believed in forever love yet my partner stopped loving me. Regardless of what we believe in sometimes belief is just not enough to avoid what's actually happening. I don't believe in divorce yet I'm living through it as I write this. I don't believe that love dies yet I'm witness to it's death right in front of my face.
On Saturday August 25th 2007 I heard the greatest and most profound story I had ever believed. It was my partners wedding vows. They weren't loquacious or overtly elegant. Yet they were poignant and powerful. They dripped like honey onto a scorched heart. My life felt complete. I felt like a soldier returning home for good never having to fight again. This was a taste of that vow and the depth at which I believed it. Yet this vow turned out to be a lie.
The forever love wouldn't last. The sickness and health was really only in health. The rich or poor was just for the rich. The support was fragile at best. Our marriage was a one sided promise. I swore and pledged my soul yet my partner buckled.
Sure this makes them out to be the villain. And perhaps they are. But I love them and still do. I will always love my now ex-partner. I'm still in love with them. And someday I may no longer be in love with them, yet I don't see that happening anytime soon. My heart is broken. My heart has been betrayed. Yet there is still hope. 12yrs and my worst nightmare has come to life. Yet I am still alive! This is why I have no fear left.
I have grit. And I have love to give to the universe. My heart will heal in time and I'll choose not to let my wounds guard me from loving others. So while 12yrs closes this chapter of my life. I'll mourn this like a funeral for a love I thought I once had. Yet, while my heart may be broken it is also incredibly open.
Thank you for being with me on my journey.