About 28 hours ago, I broke down. Scratch that – because it reads as if I had a choice. I didn’t. The tears didn’t ask for permission. The mask of contentment in my singleness was handed across the table to a dear friend, who stayed in the deafening silence with me and allowed me to be heartbroken, and confused, and unapologetically angry at God.
About 4 hours ago, another friend, unaware of yesterday’s liberation, invited me to read this blog post. Perhaps never have words so mirrored my own journey…
“I wake slowly, facedown, stretching my legs, cupping my toes over the end of the bed, feeling my calf muscles pull and retract. My head is lying flat, on 400 thread count white sheets. I am facing left, the breeze from my open window setting across my face, the window’s linen blind pulsing steadily in the same breeze.
I spread my right arm out feeling the empty space in my bed.
My heart sinks.
There has never been anyone in this space, but I still feel the void all the same. My bed has never been shared; I have never been cuddled too tightly, or felt the aching space of an evening argument that keeps two hearts and bodies apart. I have never had to fight anyone for the covers and when I am cold, I am cold alone…” Continue reading