I have kept journals for years now. They are full of poetry and prose. Until a few years ago,honesty with myself about my home life was a strange and new process. Because of this,the most interesting journals to read are the ones I wrote as I contemplated ending my marriage. There was something about committing the words"It's over" to paper, that led me to go deeper into my own psyche to reflect. One languid Georgia afternoon, I sat in a friend's backyard watching dogs and children run in the late evening sun. I remember thinking how much I loved so many parts of my life, but the gaping wound in my heart was causing massive fatigue. Almost in shadows, my friend and I we talked as kids and dogs collapsed on the lawn, After a few minutes of silence I started collecting leases and canines. As I bend down to grab a dog, I heard her softly say "This must be painful" As the last of the sun streamed through the tress I whispered back "You have no idea"
Later that evening I went into my green office, turned on the fairy lights and closed my eyes. I thought about pain; both the onset and the ending. In the dark room that was only illuminated by twinkling blue lights; I wrote the following. Moments after I finished writing, I exhaled. For the pain was not that of ending a relationship. In fact it was it was a beginning of being pain free because it was ending.
The
wound
Sometimes
the first cut is hello. With that simple word,the laceration is created.
Goodbye is the antiseptic. It brings first a profound burning.Next a lingering
sting. Then blessed relief,as the wound begins to heal.
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