Today I received a reminder that the pain of loss has not gone away. I had forgotten it, become numb to it, put it aside to keep on going through the motions of life. But still it came, refreshed. It had never truly gone away. The scar torn just enough to bleed a little again.
The man that I had been engaged to, who walked away from me about six months ago, accidentally (he claimed he had pocket dialed me) called me today.
My first reaction to his text explaining what had happened was anger. Rough, uncut, spitting out venomous words furious anger. How dare he even keep my number when he said it was over. But I kept silent for a little bit and thought over what I would reply. I took me about an hour or two (and asking for some advice from someone I trusted) to decide to ask him to remove me from his contacts (something I thought he had already done).
I didn't want to. Part of me leaped in happiness to realize that he had not "gotten rid of me" completely. But most of my being sank in dismay, anger, and sadness. Memories were refreshed. Emotions were aroused. And I wondered all over again why on earth he left me in the first place and just how much he still thought of me.
I had moved on, yet because I still care (and I will continue to care so long as he lives because I care for all) I had to address the issue instead of brushing it off and forgetting it ever happened. I wondered if it hurt him for me to ask him to remove my number, but it had to be done. It was over and I didn't want anymore "accidental" contact.
It was certain. If he were to reach me, it had to be deliberate. And he better be prepared to face me in case I have yet another immature moment and try to rage rant or overload him with questions. And if he wished to speak to me, it would be out of need (probably not from him though - matter of pride) or a desire to become friends with me. And if God's hand be upon me (should a time of my ex wanting to talk with me) I would indeed listen and be the gentle, caring woman who would reach out a hand to help.
One thing remains the same though: I had looked into him once upon a time and loved him with all that I was. And the terrible pain that I experienced when he turned away from me I live again from time to time. It is not as severe, but it is still there, pulsing like a heartbeat, reminding me that I am alive.
Perhaps I shouldn't get used to it. Maybe I should pursue healing. But not in his arms. Never again. God is my strength. God is my fortress, my desire, my Healer, my King. God is writing my love story. Not my lost love. That man has no control over me anymore. Yes, I still feel the sting, but it does not make me wish to die anymore.
Micah, my love, you hurt me. But God allowed you to hurt me so that I could understand the depths of HIS love, and His design for my life.
I may be in pain, but I am free.
The man that I had been engaged to, who walked away from me about six months ago, accidentally (he claimed he had pocket dialed me) called me today.
My first reaction to his text explaining what had happened was anger. Rough, uncut, spitting out venomous words furious anger. How dare he even keep my number when he said it was over. But I kept silent for a little bit and thought over what I would reply. I took me about an hour or two (and asking for some advice from someone I trusted) to decide to ask him to remove me from his contacts (something I thought he had already done).
I didn't want to. Part of me leaped in happiness to realize that he had not "gotten rid of me" completely. But most of my being sank in dismay, anger, and sadness. Memories were refreshed. Emotions were aroused. And I wondered all over again why on earth he left me in the first place and just how much he still thought of me.
I had moved on, yet because I still care (and I will continue to care so long as he lives because I care for all) I had to address the issue instead of brushing it off and forgetting it ever happened. I wondered if it hurt him for me to ask him to remove my number, but it had to be done. It was over and I didn't want anymore "accidental" contact.
It was certain. If he were to reach me, it had to be deliberate. And he better be prepared to face me in case I have yet another immature moment and try to rage rant or overload him with questions. And if he wished to speak to me, it would be out of need (probably not from him though - matter of pride) or a desire to become friends with me. And if God's hand be upon me (should a time of my ex wanting to talk with me) I would indeed listen and be the gentle, caring woman who would reach out a hand to help.
One thing remains the same though: I had looked into him once upon a time and loved him with all that I was. And the terrible pain that I experienced when he turned away from me I live again from time to time. It is not as severe, but it is still there, pulsing like a heartbeat, reminding me that I am alive.
Perhaps I shouldn't get used to it. Maybe I should pursue healing. But not in his arms. Never again. God is my strength. God is my fortress, my desire, my Healer, my King. God is writing my love story. Not my lost love. That man has no control over me anymore. Yes, I still feel the sting, but it does not make me wish to die anymore.
Micah, my love, you hurt me. But God allowed you to hurt me so that I could understand the depths of HIS love, and His design for my life.
I may be in pain, but I am free.