The other morning I was showering, soaping a warm soapy mesh sponge of white tea scented soap and running it up and down my leg, when I realized something rather profound.
I hadn’t thought of Kim in a while.
Kim-the first great love of my life. The man whom I loved to one thousand pieces, whom I always thought I would wind up with and die with, up until his death 4 years ago. The only one on this blog whose name is presented as it really was in real life.
I stood up under the spray of the shower, and tried to think of the last time I thought of him at any great length, and it was indeed true-it had been a while. And it had been a while since I thought of him in any kind of sense of deep and profound longing, as I used to do. Now, when I thought about him, I realized that it had morphed a bit into a drawn-out sense of gratitude and gentleness.
Somehow, in moving on to England, I had moved on from Kim.
I had to think about that a long, long time. Is it possible to take a void left behind by someone, and fill it up with someone or something else? Or is it so that, over time, we just assimilate the hole that got punched into our lives and into ourselves, and we either get over it in time or become a Dickensian tragic figure sitting around in our rotted wedding gowns?
Kiim hadn’t been substituted by anyone. I hadn’t rolled Mr. Y in over him, to hide the person and place that Kim was. Mr. Y has his own immeasurable place in me, he doesn't share it with anyone else. Maybe it simply is that I just have finally really begun to get over Kim, to finally let him go, to let go of that moment in time when he made me and broke me.
And the greatest realization that I made was this: I don’t see him in crowds anymore.
On an almost daily basis, when I was out and about, I would see him in a crowd and go chasing after him, only to reach the shoulder of some poor, unsuspecting man, who would of course inevitably not be Kim. I did this so many times that I lost count. I constantly was on the lookout for him in crowds, in foreign places, in the quirkiest of buildings. Some little part of me know that a man like Kim couldn't be bested by leukemia-he had to still be alive, still be fighting, still give the world a reason for turning.
But I don’t do that now. I don't search the crowds for him.
I have carefully wrapped Kim up and put him in my heart, where he will always be. But my aching for him is gone, my torrential tears for what we had dried up. I realize I now look back on him with deep fondness and a bittersweet love, and I always will.
But I am here, alive, and living. I like to think that maybe somewhere he is cheering for me, and glad that I have finally moved on.
I've moved on.
For the first time since his death, I can say that.
I've moved on.
-H.
PS-now that I have the pc working, I am having problems with Hotmail, so if you have sent a mail I am not ignoring you-I just can’t get access.
PPS-22 comments until my 4000th comment.
Light and Dark was my 4000th comment! Thanks, Paul! :)
And Lisa-I had a fear like that about another guy, too. Talk about shaving years off your life...
Posted by: Helen at April 20, 2004 07:19 AMThere used to be someone in my life that, after he left me, I'd search for him - - but not in a good way. Mine was worry that he was around the next corner. It's a different sort of expectation than yours - but still took almost as much time to let go of. It is a fascinating realization the day that you remember it - and it IS a memory, not a daily, present image in your mind.
It's healthy. Good for you, Helen. I think Kim is somewhere out there and awfully damn proud of you....I know I am - and hell, I don't even know you. :)
Posted by: Lisa at April 20, 2004 04:32 AMit's good to finally be able to think of our lost loved ones with fondness, and peace, rather than with hurt, and tears.
*hugs*
It's a good place to be. Always remembering him fondly, yet not chasing him literaly or figuratively.
And I will proudly settle for the 4001st comment.
Posted by: Almost Lucid (Brad) at April 20, 2004 01:44 AMI am glad you have found a place for Kim inside...one that doesn't tear at you constantly....Love to you...
Posted by: mitzi at April 20, 2004 01:25 AMplease...pretty please...
Posted by: mitzi at April 20, 2004 01:23 AMno...I wanna be 4000...and I want luuka....lol
Posted by: mitzi at April 20, 2004 01:22 AMWell, I can't resist. If this is number 4000, whahooo! For my prize, I want to be bumped up on the Luuka list. And if I'm not, well then I want to congratulate you Helen. You've put yourself through the tough times without running away, and now you're earnning the peace that comes from getting out the other side. Hope things continue to get better, and that you find the strength to deal with the things that don't.
P.
Posted by: li at April 19, 2004 11:37 PMPeace is wonderful place to find.
only 4 left!
Posted by: Stephen Macklin at April 19, 2004 11:12 PM
Helen, you're getting so healthy lately! Wow!
It's not you -- hotmail is FUBAR all over the place --
and it also isn't you -- it's Kim too, and acceptance -- don't think of it as moving on, because that sort of implies leaving behind, and that isn't what you want to do to/for him -- but acceptance, yes ... that sounds right ..
Posted by: Ky at April 19, 2004 09:22 PM4 comments to go!
Posted by: Helen at April 19, 2004 08:28 PMthat is a big corner to turn...even if it is a bittersweet one.....hope this brings you a little peace :)
(one comment closer to 4000)
Posted by: Casey at April 19, 2004 08:27 PMLast week I dreamt about two very dear exes for the first time in many years. They were exceptionally vivid dreams that took place in the present - and usually I dream about them as if we were in the past. It started me thinking about the subconscious and what it wants us to know.
Maybe not holding on quite so tight is the best way for you to heal. It's very difficult to live in your body if you're always wanting something that is gone forever.
Cheers and kisses.
Posted by: Kaetchen at April 19, 2004 07:48 PMHurts heal and you actually do stop longing for people after a time. Seeing a departed one in crowds is actually pretty common. I saw my grandmother for about a year after she died. I told my great aunt about it and she basically told me that of course I was seeing Nana. She was watching out for me and I was bound to catch a glimpse every now and then. A sweet thought and a surprisingly comforting one, considering my agnosticism.
Posted by: Jim at April 19, 2004 07:32 PMThe best thing you can do is let the past go. It'll eat you up inside. I used to do that too...looking in the crowd for that one and only face. In my case it was my real dad. He left me when I was five. I remember being so young & looking in the crowded streets - searching for his face. Anytime I saw a blond haired man my heart would skip beats. So many times it consumed me. I had to learn to let it go.
Posted by: Tiffani at April 19, 2004 06:22 PMWhile I am thinking all the sweet things others are typing, I really just wanted to boost the comment count up. ;)
Posted by: pam at April 19, 2004 04:57 PMI've lost friends who over the years. It's so hard to deal with their not being right there. I've never known that moment where it suddenly doesn't hurt anymore, but I have noticed that eventually the memories don't hurt anymore. No more sudden tears when a random thought crosses my mind, although the longing to call and actually talk to those people never really passes.
I'm glad the pain is easing toward a less agonizing wistful reflection for you.
Posted by: Lisa at April 19, 2004 03:25 PMIn that memory thing I´m easy: there´s always a comfy place in me for everyone. Someone did something bad to me? Forget about it, he also had his good points. Someone did only bad things? There’s the oblivion drawer, like magic erasing a person. All the rest? I suspect I talk with them in my dreams. If only I could remember at least one. My point to all this? Some of my friends think I´m a fool, others say I´m just lazy... I suspect they all love me. Miguel.
It's interesting, I have been thinking about similar things recently, but for different reasons, and came to the conclusion that rather than having one "well of love" that we draw on and share between each person in our lives we have seperate, distinct and unfathomable wells available for many people. This allows us to have more than one "one", if you follow me. Kim was your "one" but there is no doubt in my mind (or yours of you think about it) that you have the capacity to love other people as deeply, as passionately, as needfully, without diminishing either Kim or you.
You're OK Helen...
Posted by: zeno at April 19, 2004 02:41 PMIt's good to find the proper balance when a relationship ends. You don't want to forget that person, but you don't want their memory to run your life either.
Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, but those who dwell on the past rob themselves of enjoying the here and now. I'm glad you've found your "balance" with Kim.
Posted by: Solomon at April 19, 2004 02:40 PMI want to say i am pleased for you but that is not at all the right expression
Abs x
xxx
Posted by: Sarah at April 19, 2004 02:28 PMi'm glad kim is finding a comfy place in your heart instead of an overwhelming place in your head. ((hugs))
Posted by: kat at April 19, 2004 02:22 PMYou know, I was thinking about something similar yesterday. My "ghost" as my family and close friends refer to him, was David. I realized yesterday that he wasn't right there, the thought of him to my left, anymore. It's not that I've forgotten him, but I've finally gotten through the grief. And it only took me just over 11 years.
Posted by: amber at April 19, 2004 02:22 PMI just got broadband myself. I had no idea what I was missing.
It's good to see you back!
Posted by: Easy at April 19, 2004 02:19 PM