Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Time went by and slowly yet steadily, as slow or cumbersome the process was, I soon found my grounding. Going through the various stages of loss in any form; called grieving. It felt as though time just wouldn’t pass by, the healing just wouldn’t get done with. The pain of loss, as avoidable or suppressible, it demands to be felt. The 20 months of being not just one anothers companions, but a best friend. No less to one another than what I thought was my soul mate; learning the significant others likes and dislikes, past and demons and yet finding comfort in ones skin around them. Looking at the other, and just smiling cause all those flaws seem nothing short of perfect.

With time, we learn to associate the other person with oneself as one entity, a force of sorts. Planning to the future always felt like something that was a necessity, for living in the uncertainty seemed all too peculiar to taste. I thought I had it all planned out, from the certainty of my interests at the age of 8 to knowing what kind of a person I wanted to be, this commitment to me was eternal. We met halfway on what we wanted post-marriage, everything to planning what the kids would be named and how whatever hardships either of us was put through would never be put down for them to taste. We always worked off one another to become the best version of the person we were, seeking motivation to achieve, to finding confidence in ones words. Uncertainty was oblivious to us at this given point, (or at any given point, at least it felt like it was to me) whatever I held, it was with this significant other and anything else just felt like it would go over my head.

Like every relationship, not everyday was bright and shiny, there were dark and gloomy days, even worse there were storms… nothing that felt as though it would take us apart. Storms were days where the comfort of taking things for granted would sway one off track, leading to a series of arguments or much worse, holding one accountable to something that in many cases would lead to one, the other or much rather both hurting. Apologizing to make it clear that nothing was bigger than what was most important never felt like it was making anything less of me as a person. That initial period in a relationship is what’s called a honeymoon period to me, cause its all bright and beautiful till it was no more than the two very souls that gave their heart to one another. Intimacy was beyond the modern day image of the hook-up culture or a fling, it was something that came naturally. The bare connection of ones mind and soul, that's nakedness in itself. It only ever felt so natural that in one anothers arms, there was a sense of belonging… it was coexisting as one.

Somewhere down that very road, intimacy took its turn to something so blinding that it was oblivious when thought of. Blinding to ones own conscience and view, it deteriorated and the thought never crossed my mind, cause it still felt as eternal as it did in the early days. To the multiple meaningless moments and emotions shared past that point, still blinded to ones image of what it was, where it came from and how it would be held me from any progressive understanding of what was happening.

It was all falling apart, but little does one see it coming and when the day finally arrives where that significant other breaks it to you, the world suddenly zooms into your mind; the pain, the little shattered pieces of yourself and everything you held to heart lay in-front of you. You then embark on a journey of concluding. What- When- Why- How? Still your mind lay in that state of awe for the person, for all that the other meant to you… with subtle hints of anger on the blue. Trying to fend off the reality to the truth you seek, feeding to the memories that continue to be in a state of replay in ones mind, you reach a state of tunnel-vision, the unavoidable truth. To the many that find themselves lucky enough to receive closure, I was given no such privilege. Closure felt somewhat of a prerogative at that given point, something that in the healing process would not just take its toll mentally but emotionally. Better yet, lost love and burnt bridges.

What does one really go through at this given point? A claim of facing depression? An indecisive and weak-minded approach to what is actually a state of sorrow. This is where a lot of reading and ambiguity in topics came in, I stumbled upon what was called “The four stages of Grief”. So what really is the four stages of grief and what kind of in-sight did it give? Like much of what was mentioned above, the first three stages are Denial, Anger and Bargaining. Not much to be expanded on here but a great point to sit back and contemplate much of what was written, to not only show you a reflection of what might have happened or what will, the additional footing to keep from something that could possibly have made it worse than it already is.

More than battling with this other, it was a battle from within. It was a choice to hold my ground and not be impulsive and rash on thoughts and words. Left with no choice, the next few months would only culminate into a battle with oneself to either suppress or conclude and accept. We look at alternatives to seek this kind of suppressing mechanism, to each- their own. A fair share of suppressing through substance, alcohol and burying oneself in work didn’t lead to anything progressive on a mental state. Here’s where the fourth stage of grieving comes in, Depression. As much I don’t agree with the tag alone, it was more in relation to a state of feeling empty from within, where thoughts and places are only a trail of memories that push you down on the glimpse of the slightest sign of hope.

“But there was no need to be ashamed of tears, for tears bore witness that a man had the greatest of courage, the courage to suffer.” 
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

With some further reading into what was called “Dark Night of the soul”, which adapted to me in more of a spiritual crisis of sorts, but not in the need to seek a connection with a higher power but with oneself. The idea of dependency towards another being, and to be so emotionally etched in weakness that the last thing one looks forward to is the start of a new day, it brings fear in ones vulnerability to another such day. The process of moving on begins by getting to know oneself, it is to be at peace with being alone, finding joy in ones own company and thoughts. It is getting to know ones strong suits and working on the weaknesses, healing in this process is reaping the good from what was lost and implementing it. As demanding as it may to give in to the thoughts of weakness, persistence to dig deeper and seek ones inner peace through a phase of constant metamorphosis, can play out with constant doubt of ones capabilities and worth.

This phase however, possesses a right over animosity and obligatory isolation, circumstances along with deep metamorphosis that challenges one to find change within. The storm never completely subsides; memories and traits associated with that once thought of significant other forever remain etched. But as humans, we learn that in times of complete darkness, we come with purpose to move further, to leave behind what we consider a legacy. Moving forward than to remain in a state of inertia is a matter of choice, the saying never quite stops coming across that “life gets better”, but does it really!? Life merely gets better, it’s a fools explanation to what really is our basic human instinct, adapting. Passion and resilience aids the healing process by which one forgives without reason and ensues happiness, hoping this other finds rejoice and comfort in their choices and commitments.

For the countless memories, moments and emotions; for everything you’ve done for me, you will forever hold a special place in my heart.

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” 
― Plato, The Symposium

Note,

The following entry was my first take on writing for what I believed meant the most to me and felt worthy of publishing on a medium such as this. For what took me awhile to write due to circumstances of mental healing, I finally found it in myself to complete it and manifest my thoughts, experiences and emotion to what I felt needed to be read by the countless others that find themselves in the very same position. A year on in, I have found my peace to what is now in the past, a brighter tomorrow for what I have taken into my own hands to write and a more resilient nature to what I believe.