Daily...

"'X' come back."

It's been over two years.  I know that.  Fuck, do I know it.  But "'X come back'" is a phrase that for two years, I have said out loud or thought at some point.  Daily.  And with that thought of bringing him back, what could I do….

I was in a therapy group.  And I said in that group "I would do anything, including sacrificing one of you, to get him back."  While on my yogi journey that's not appropriate, the underlying statement is - I would give anything to have him back - even in the form of friend.  Someone in the group said something along the lines of "You (me) couldn't take him."  To which I thought - hell hath no fury like….

I'm coming up to the two year mark on when I scattered his ashes on a mountain over-looking the ocean.  The exact spot, only I now where.  The general vicinity, a few people know.  The spot was one that he took me to on one of our first vacations together as a couple.  It.  Is.  Beautiful.  To say the least.  He was deserving of it.

See, here's the dilemma - what if the man that you loved died.

And you (I) never stopped loving him.  I believe when he broke up with me, he took a chunk of my heart.  And I never got it back before he died.  I love the concept of love.  And many days, I think I'm capable of it.  I have fears of love though too.  And that's where my problem lies.

There is currently another.  The "boy," as I call him to people that don't know him personally, is competing against a perfect ghost.  X was a great man.  He had his faults; I have my faults; we had our faults as couple; but in my memory, he is perfect.

And the boy gets this.  He's gently, VERY gently pointed things out along my path to life again - X broke up with me; X did this…; X did that….; I did this…; I did that…

The concept of love and marriage is so amazing to me.  I get twitterpated.  (check out Bambi).  Being in love is an amazing feeling. And I hope that with the boy, or whomever comes along, I can somehow find my whole heart.  And give it back.