Caterwauling

This completes the trifecta of posts about the person from my past and the decisions we made that forever connect us.

Tonight, I received the apology I hadn’t realized how much I’ve needed. But moreover, I learned that I’m not the only one battling demons, not that I would wish pain of this proportion on any human. Granted, I faced my biggest obstacles head-on, and long ago. And his dragons are taking longer to be slain. I say this not with any emotion other than understanding.

This reminds me of when my grandmother died. I battled with my grief immediately. Mom popped Valium to get through the tragedy, but when the pills ran out, the pain came rushing through the door, knocking the wind out of her. The mind can be a dark lair sometimes, and seeking refuge and answers there, in the aftermath of avoidance, usually creates more long-term damage.

I had a distinct memory tonight, one long forgotten, of when I offered for him to start his life over with me. That maybe we shouldn’t give up — that maybe, just maybe, we could make the situation work. All it would have taken from him would have been one word, a simple affirmative, and life would have been so different. I’m not implying that different would have equalled better, though.

When I was in the hospital recently, I was asked about this a dozen times. As much as I’ve put this behind me, there will always be a reason to dredge it up. My medical history will always have a mark on it, much like my heart.

But tonight, my heart is doing a lot better than it has been for the past two and a half years. And it will be fine until Valentine’s Day, when I will inadvertently realize that I might have been celebrating a second birthday, were a question answered in another way. But then I wouldn’t be where or who I am today, either, and maybe the end of one opportunity precipitated the accomplishment of others … and the dream of many more.

How you frustrate me, you blank Word document, silently taunting me for my inability to just choose a coherent starting point for my madness. I have thousands upon thousands of thoughts and images and shapes and patterns in my head, and do you THINK I can string them together into something resembling anything?

I have hundreds of typed pages of notes, and hundreds more that are handwritten. My book series is begging to be written. All it needs is the first fucking paragraph of the first book, and the rest, as they say, shall follow.

As a newswriter by trade, I know that once the lead graf is written, everything else will systematically follow. When you don’t have a strong lead, the story never feels quite right. And I need a strong lead, because if I don’t hook readers during the first book, nobody’s going to want to read the remaining six in the series.

I did make some good notes today. But then I learned that my blog has fallen into enemy hands (of the Veggie sort), and that pretty much killed my inspiration for the day.

But I have enjoyed my four-day weekend. I needed this. 🙂

So I was ranting about somebody from my past just two days ago, and wouldn’t you know, out of the bloody blue, I just got an e-mail from him this morning.

I don’t think he reads the website, so it was just eerie to get the note. It was sweet and endearing and well-crafted — just an attempt to say hello. *sigh* It’s a good thing I don’t want to be mad at him, because I could never be.

I’ll definitely write back, just not right now. I’m sure he’ll understand. I was the one who let the friendship drop into oblivion, and I admit to missing the old banter. It seems like he’s trying to rebuild that bridge in some way. Because, you know, I rock and everybody should want to have me in their lives. 😉

Sometimes, we grow up and realize what we *should* or *could* have done differently. And sometimes, we realize that, no matter what course of action we had chosen, things probably would have turned out the same way. It’s what happens after we pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off that counts — and I’m famous for getting through tough situations and just crumbling afterward. But this time, I didn’t. I made something of myself. I’ve gone on to love and lose, hope and hurt, succeed and screw up — and do it all over again.

I suddenly feel inspired to revisit my book series. I’m going to take a bloggy break and go focus on that today. I haven’t touched it in years, but today is the day I remember what it was I wanted to do before the whirlwind of life picked me up and forgot to put me down. 🙂