The Art of Living

It's a shame when something amazing gets ruined. Especially when at your own hands. Hind sight is 20/20. She was right though. I let my insecurities from my previous marriage play a role in destroying us. We had a good thing, and I fucked it up. She was pretty, caring, had a fucking heart of gold. She would have done anything for me. She was so good with my son, and my son loves her to pieces. Her kids are great, I continue to be absolutely head over heels about them. She had the wildest eyes to stare into. Last night she came over with my things in a paper bag. I let them sit on the counter for a few minutes, and to tell you the truth I didn't want to open the bag. I wanted to ignore it. But I couldn't. I had a fear that everything that I gave her, or wrote her was going to be in there. Could I handle the rejection for a second time? 

There was a few items that were in there. My sons flannel shirt, socks, my sweatshirt - which still smelled like her. I couldn't help but smell that item of clothing. The smell of her and her house, and sage, brought back a flood of memories, and I broke down. I bawled like a baby for about 10 minutes in the living room. All of those memories, time at the beach, car rides, making love, great conversations, holidays, camping. It was a lot to handle. To be honest it hit me harder than getting divorced. The thing about divorce is that I was distraught about getting kicked out, and losing time with my son. knowing that my time with my son was cut in half, and coming home to an empty house on the nights were killer. Silence was deafening. With Esther it was different. We had a real connection. There was substance. The last few months I found myself creeping back into my own head which made it hard to express things  (If I love someone, how why do I have a hard time verbalizing  it?) My head is my worst enemy. She asked for help and I panicked. I didn't know what I could do.... I never asked her what I could do. If only I would have asked her what I can do to help her. How could I be so blinded in my own head and stupid. 

I went back to that paper bag and found a book that was tucked neatly at the bottom of the bag. The Art of Living- the classical manual on virtue, Happiness, and Effectiveness. She hit the damned nail on the head with that one. As much as it hurt to read those words, I knew that it was coming from a good place from her. She wants me to be happy, control what I can control, and to not worry about the rest. The book is based on Epictetus's writings. He was a philosopher who was born a slave. Once he was free (and eventually exiled) he devoted much of his life to  studying what makes a person happy and gives them a meaningful life. She had apparently already read the book as there were notes scrawled on the pages and passages underlined. The Ironic thing to this arriving in that paper bag is that last week I was thinking about ordering some sort of self help books. Ahead of the curve, She is continuing to help, even though she has departed. That speaks to her compassionate nature. Under that shell is a kind, loving person.  I get why she did. She needs to be stable, not only for her, but for her boys. 

I need to be strong. I needed to be strong for her. Now I see her walking the opposite direction instead of us walking together. I started reading that book last night. As much heart ache that I have, I look at this as my time to rise. Become a stronger person, or at least get back to where I was. I feel like I used to be a strong person, but was just kicked and beaten down emotionally over the last five years. I want to be a strong person again, for me, for Orion, for my family........ you fight for the things you love, and this is something I need to fight for.