This piece was sandwiched between two other pieces that I wrote - one dated November, 1994; the next was dated February 26, 1995. My children were 16 and 7 years old at the time:
I stumbled onto a poem last week that says "to love is to risk not being loved in return". It stopped me in my tracks and made me really wonder when the last time I really risked my heart ...
I've found, in my wise 34 odd years, that the difference between love and hate are minuscule. You really can't hate someone, if you don't love them first.
As I ventured through the recesses of my mind, I relived the "I HATE (MY BROTHER)" years, when I scrawled out my frustrations of my brother, five years younger than myself, on the blackboard.
We went from those years, to an awkward stage where all of a sudden, I was 16 & 17; he was 11 & 12 ... and we didn't fight any more. When we stopped fighting, we didn't relate much any more either.
Then, came the years when Mom became the 'interpretor', telling both my brother and me how much we thought alike. That we should talk to each other, because we could help each other. And, as so often mothers are ... she was right.
We eventually became the best of pen pals. Both, being at home on paper, to reveal our truest selves and living in separate provinces, we got to know each other and became friends.
Then came my next love/hate relationship. My husband. We divorced, remarried, separated, reconciled again, separated again and finally divorced. Again. You name it ... we did it, over the course of those ten years. Never had any one unearthed those 'hate' feelings the way he did. Yet, neither had anyone unearthed the love.
We loved as intensely as we hated. The turmoil of those years took its toll. Eventually, at our last parting ... it happened. I didn't hate him any more. Numbness took over. An acceptance that I couldn't change him, I couldn't fix all that ailed him. Whoever said that love conquers all was wrong! This relationship was destructive. Bringing two children down along with us, was the breaking point. Yes. Numb was good.
Then ... being the mother of a 16 year old has let those love/hate feelings resurface again. In its purest form, the love is undying. No matter what he does/says/is ... I will love him. Unconditionally. I think this is 'parent's love'. It doesn't mean that all is rosy though. Tempers can flare and for those instants, I feel the 'hate' of the act of what he has done or is saying. Forgiveness comes easy and is almost a given. But sometimes ... I need a heartfelt "I'm sorry".
This ol' heart of mine is tired of risking it all though. In retrospect, I can feel how I pulled back and wasn't willing to risk the hurt of totally loving someone again.
I thought I'd fallen in love with my head this last time. Not my heart. I guess that way is safe. But holding back not only protects you from the fall, but prevents you from feeling all of the good parts of being in love. When I played back the tapes of my last relationship in my mind, I could see how he risked his heart. I played it safe and didn't put my heart on the line. I needed a safety net of knowing that I could pull back at any time and not risk the devastation.
I think he was the winner in the end. I admire his ability to put his heart on the line. Once I saw it all clearer, I found the courage to call him, apologize and read him little parts of this poem about 'risk', to show him that his ability to care that much is an admirable quality to have.
The poem encompassed so much of what I'd let become 'me'. Afraid to try, in case I failed. Afraid to love. Afraid to reach out.
Hey! I'm a survivor and never want to appear needy. Hey! I was wrong.
I have had the good fortune of finding the best of friends. I have always been rather hesitant to actually lean on anyone though (Hey! I'm strong!!). I make these little attempts to reach out. Very subtly though, in case I'm turned down. Then I don't have to face that failure. I've found that a lot of my subtleness is just plain missed. Even my sisters say that sometimes they can't 'hear' what I am trying to say. Funny how Mom can hear it though. Must be a 'Mom' thing ...
So, attempting this writing is risking failure. Reestablishing a friendship with my previous fiance is risking his turning me away. Risking involvement. Reaching out and writing my thoughts for all the world to see is risking showing my true self.
But ... I know that I must at least try. Because "the greatest risk in life is to risk nothing".
Here is the quote that inspired those thoughts:
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To hope is to risk pain.
To try is to risk failure,
But risk must be taken,
Because the greatest hazard in life
Is to risk nothing
~ Leo Buscaglia ~
And those ... are the meanderings of my mind from 17 years ago.
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