to be separated into fragments

Not this last weekend, but the one before, the boyf and I broke up. I was expecting a shift, but I was not expecting this exactly.

In the car, just before everything was different, I was thinking about showing him how I can jump now, thanks to the slow and steady work of physical therapy. We don’t normally go to parks together, so when he pulled into one on his own, I thought, yes, this is perfect for jumping. He’s always been a bit psychic about what I need.

The sun cast a spotlight on us like we were main characters, and we transformed into a different kind of us.

This was a gentle breaking, a hopeful one for the us that still is but is also still unshapen.

And I am incredibly, deeply heart-broken.

Normally my practice for heartbreaks and disappointments and changes of plan is to jump into the new direction with both feet. I’m in prison? Fine, let’s BE at prison. I’m a widow in her 30’s? Okay, let’s write a Tinder bio. I live in a city I’ve never really thought about before? Great, let’s fall in love with it. Though this strategy requires some nudging, it feels intuitive in those crossroads.

You can’t just live at a fork, and why re-learn to jump if you’re only ever going to tiptoe? Why let the temporary nature of the human condition keep us from celebrating the things that passed, even as we grieve them?

But this feels different.

This feels like I need a lot of time, maybe forever. And I know, I know more than most how laughable that word is. Forever.

As if people and titles and names and moments don’t fall out of my hands like sand.

I keep telling myself that I can’t have what I can’t have, and I need to imagine something different. Dream something different.

Make a new path for myself, or go off-trail for a new one.

I don’t have to jump, just because I can. I just need to dream, which means I need to rest and write, which means I need to gather some stillness up and hold it tight and trust.

Trust that it’ll slip out of my hands when it’s time, just like everything else.

After-post edit: I don’t need anything except time! Thank you for your care and readership. ❤