Loss

I took a drive to the places I used to love yesterday. The streets, the exits, and even the shopping centers all reminded me of a life I used to love and a girl I used to be. I loved her the most. She was happy, and brave, and driven. She was beautiful and wild, but still focused and centered. She knew what she wanted in her life and who she wanted to have in it.

I remember waking up at 5am to run into the sunrise before work. I remember days off running the bridge and hiking up mountains to beautiful deserted beaches. I remember nights making pillow forts and cooking dinners together with a man who became my lover and my friend. I remember going to meet up with my best friend for a beer at the end of a long day of running and exploring and being greeted by his smiling face. I remember the bliss in my ignorance of the mortality of the people I loved. I thought my love was timeless. I thought my family was immortal. I thought my best friend would be beside me forever.

I found a strength inside myself that I didn’t know I had. Running served me well. Running Half marathons reminded me that I have an unbelievable strength inside me. It made me feel powerful. It made me feel like no matter what happened in my day, I had something that no one could touch. It was almost a religious experience. 3 miles to turn off the voices in my head. 5 miles to not feel my body. Anything further was the equivalent of nirvana. Being able to exist in nature and beauty without noise in one’s mind, not feeling the bonds of your human body has got to be a spiritual experience in its own right. And as I sit here, with an aching in my back, pain shooting down my right leg, I feel a grief inside me that can only be equivocated to the loss of a loved one. I have come to realize that the loss is me. I lost me.

In the months prior to this I have lost little pieces of myself. And big pieces of myself. My lover betrayed me. My best friend took his own life. My father was injured in an accident that could have taken his life. My job that used to give me such gratification became a place of emotional abuse and stress. The thing that was holding me together was my ability to push the limits of my body. Take that away and I am a shell of who I used to be.

I want to find happiness again. I want to love myself again. But right here in this moment I feel an overwhelming sense of despair. I feel a hopelessness. I feel stuck, and unable to get out of this rut. I want to run away without a trace, but I’m limited in my mobility. How can I run away when I can barely walk around the supermarket without pain? When I left my job I wanted to hike the John Muir Trail. All of that seems like a distant memory. Like a dream I once had and can barely remember.

I feel an overwhelming sense of grief for the loss of my best friend. I lost a piece of my soul with him. I feel an anguish for my relationship ending. I feel animosity, and anger. He didn’t mean to hurt me, but he did. I was a casualty in his story. I am a casualty in my story as well – never asking for enough for myself. Being ok with a half assed-relationship with my half-assed heart. One day this will all be a memory. Maybe I will be too.