With every happy chapter that has ever had the incidence of wounding up in my book comes the sad tale of recovery. I don’t have a terrible life by any means, but I do have a rather poor view of it. It is itself a terrible habit and one which I struggle to make right. After all, what are we living for if only for the emotions which make us feel alive.
Thinking of the hazy future has forced us to wake up from our little dream, and here reality presents it’s stark truth. He is moving away and starting a new life in two weeks’ time and again we come to a cross roads. This man who had previously inflicted so much pain in my direction with a simple dismissal; he had so many other things to worry about. Now the patterns emerge, and like the details which are uncovered after re-reading a favorite novel, I understand him all the more thoroughly.
His choice seems clear: old habits die hard. I don’t blame him. But now faced with my own familiar thoughts creeping in through the cracks of my armor – of self-effacing pain, abandonment, and rejection, can I break the cycle?
Waking up from this dream means confronting my own nightmares; they were never easy creatures.