A year after my father died, I met the man in whom his heart resides. He who loves me without question, condition. No matter what. No matter what I say, how I act. Look like. How filthy my heart proves to be.
But I didn’t know it was him. I didn’t know for the first 17 years that it was him.
My soul knew, but my mind didn’t.
The only exception to his love is where he struggled to give it to himself. When he suffered from his own darkness. It was so dark you’d think it was about you.
We make everything about ourselves anyway.
I’d go back and forth, thinking that he was meant for me.
And then when I’d felt hurt by him, when he’d say something or behave unkindly, I’d go back to thinking it wasn’t meant to be. It couldn’t have been. My father didn’t talk to me that way.
That didn’t feel like the love my father gave me. But it did. The lack of love didn’t. But the love did.
Underneath, it was. It was the purest thing. It just suffered from a lack of understanding. So did I.
In my 20’s, as I became more and more aware and gained clarity about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions, I watched my emotions change from day to day. From “i love him” to “i hate him” to “i love him” to “i hate him.” Say for example, the days that would follow our fights would be quiet. Void of joy and full of anxiety. We could feel it. And our faces certainly showed it. But over several days of limited to no communication, my emotions would change on their own. The first time i realized this, i realized part of the role that i was playing- that I Could play- I could love him. Or i could hate him. Independent of him.
I could choose.
This liberated my heart but quite literally fucked with my mind.
So when I’d love him, maybe i was thinking of a time he made me happy. Or when i hated him, a time that i was unhappy. How much of it was how I felt?
When should I choose love? (the answer: wherever you want change)
And up to what unkindness should I forgive?
Was he making me feel this way?
Or was I feeling this way? And was i right in feeling this way.
And what’s right any way?
I don’t know what’s right. But I DO know what WORKS.
The only success I’ve ever had is being the change I seek.
I struggle… I pray I can be what I want to see.
I pray for the colossal energy that runs through him. The energy that is his burden to channel carefully. I pray for the energy that is tied up that he’s unaware of.
His light is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. His darkness is also the most blinding darkness i’ve ever had to navigate. Both are just as unreal.
I’ve watched the forces of the Universe play out in the man beside me- most of the time he humbles himself to be the channel of something Greater-
But then there are the times he reminds me that he’s human. He’s suffered from the hurt that human beings cause each other. And so in certain moments, the parts that have been buried so deep in hurt, come out as they feel the need to self-preserve. The darkness always tries protect itself when it has been trespassed. The light, on the other hand is home to all and knows no scarcity.
We all have these dark parts in our hearts. Our job is to uncover them.
Our relationships and lives are always trying to bring our hurt to the surface in an effort to heal it.
Love is perfect. Human beings on the other hand, have a lot of work to do to reach such a state of perfection.
Both in the ways we give and receive.
I never knew that we were all capable of Great love. We are just works of progress in progress.
I wonder about all the ways my father had changed in his life, before he’d given away this.. this perfect love. It’s all I’d ever known, but I wonder how many times he’d given it imperfectly, maybe before me. I wonder how many times he’d struggled to love unconditionally. I wonder how many times he’d given with expectation to then give without. I wonder about the hurt that he caused others in order to bring him to a place in his life where he just wanted to love. I wonder about how his life had shaped his heart- who he’d been before he had kids, how his outlook of life and the world had changed throughout his short four decades. I wonder about his metamorphosis- about all the ways he’d changed. I have a feeling I’ll find out through the man beside me.