Big ups to Lachlan last night for texting me (circa midnight my time) that my site got borked. Big ups also to Dreamhost for getting most of it fixed overnight. No clue what happened but I guess I will always look at a cyber issue and immediately throw the blame in one particular direction, where the source of my virtual headaches have historically stemmed. *arched eyebrow*
Speaking of history, my past has sort of come a-knocking. While it’s good to deal with Things Unspeakable from years ago (you know, the stuff people say in hushed tones around the dinner table, if they daresay anything at all), nothing like slicing the wounds open with a machete after nearly a decade to let you really feel the hurt you never allowed yourself to acknowledge in the first place.
“I’ve lost love, lived with shame
I was humbled by my fall from grace
On the steps of decision
It’s revenge or forgivenessHalle Halle
We’re one breath away
Halle Halle
From our judgment day.”— Bon Jovi, “Learn to Love”
Amazing the mental block you can put up — how airtight a fortress you can build. Forgetting — or, at least, consciously not remembering — doesn’t mean things didn’t happen.
More amazing, still, is that yes, someone else does remember every detail — which you admittedly had presumed otherwise. It’s easy to forget that you weren’t the only one “in it.” We have different reactions to being broken, but that doesn’t mean we’re not hurting equally.
Most amazing, that it doesn’t suck to deal with it now, better late than never, because you both have answers that the other never knew.
The key takeaway here was that I mattered. I was loved. And maybe that I don’t have to use the past tense to say either of those things.
And I will be again. We both will.
I’ve often wondered why, generally speaking, I feel like I metaphorically can’t move forward. Maybe surgically treating a hastily bandaged wound from long ago is a good place to start.