All this time I thought the healthiest thing I could do - the most loving, the most gentle, the most respectful, and this one burns, the most Godly - was to maintain this relationshp.  All these years, I've been maintaining, by myself.  Birthdays, holidays, passing through town days, trips to your hospital room when your health failed you. These were my idea.

Forgiving you when you slipped out of touch for days, weeks,  months, years at a time.  That was my idea.  

Passing messages to other family members you had fallen out of touch with ... ok, that was your idea.  But it was my idea to chirpily keep family members up to date on where you were and what you were doing when they asked.

I'm utterly and thoroughly exhausted.  And this afternoon, while running around and around on the track, I was shocked to discover that all of this "maintenance" was the antithesis of the healthiest thing I could have done.  It has allowed you to keep me as an emotional hostage.   I am not in the 7th grade and this is not a game of "Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?" 

The decisions you've made in the past week have baffled even me (your last link). You owed it to me to tell me yourself you were leaving.  You owed it to me to not pass the message through a woman I had never met.  (Didn't you owe it to her to not put her in that awkward, terrible position?). (And will you *please* stop giving my number to strange women?)  You owed it to me to not suggest that I call people I had never met for an update on how you're doing.

I will not be calling them.  I will no longer be searching for you because you are not in the places you insist are real.  The places you are, are fictional.  A  product of your own making.

I have no other way to explain it.

It's growing cooler outside daily and the energy has moved from lazy summer to charged fall - another season.   Briefly, I wonder how many seasons Orovado has.

 I did not ask to be born to you.  I cannot control that.  But I can control this:

I will let go.    This is the healthiest thing I can do.

2 comments

  1. Ronna on September 3, 2010 at 4:24 PM

    *hugging you*

     
  2. Sarah on September 3, 2010 at 5:07 PM

    Oh, man. The hardest thing to do is to realize that someone who should be something specific for you, to you, just Isn't. So hard. You know I understand. Hugs.

     


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