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“They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite” 
― Cassandra Clare

I was talking to my sister the other day when she said that I was different after the break up with Ex.   I asked: Different how?  She said: Angrier!

I was shocked! I never expected that answer!  If anything I thought she would have said happier or more at peace, anything along those lines.  But angrier???

At first I was speechless.  For several seconds my mind went numb and I didn’t know what to think, then for another brief second, thoughts of asking for examples of such behavior came to mind.

When I actually recovered my ability to speak I went into defensive mode explaining how what had happened to me would change anyone.  I felt the need to explain how my disappointment was so intense and painful that my only defense was to change.  No more Miss Nice Girl! Of course she didn’t need to hear any of the excuses for my change, as you guys don’t need to hear all of the details on how hurt I was, as you have heard all of that before.

But, was I really angrier?  Any traumatizing event is certain to leave a mark.  This was the most traumatizing event of my life.  No, I have not lived a sheltered life.  I left Brazil at 17 with no English and no money.  I certainly had to grow up fast and had my share of bad times.  But even with everything that I have lived through in my life, with my father battling cancer and coming up triumphant as an example of a terribly difficult time, this break up was an event that I thought it would kill me.

I didn’t need to ask my sister for examples.  I knew she was right.

The aftershocks of this break up are still ongoing.  I had certainly hoped that all my changes would be for the better.  I never thought I would lash out and be angry towards the ones I love the most.  I thought the break up had proved my ability to forgive and to continue to love above all things.  I thought if anything I had became more forgiving of human imperfections.  I forgave Ex and understood the need to look inside myself and take some ownership of my role in the relationship.  I thought I had dealt with things and had moved on. 

“We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full.” 
― Marcel Proust

But indeed I am angry!  I am angry at the Universe for showing me true love and then taking it away.  Why must you send me a man that treats me like a Princess for 3 years and then have that fairy tale just fall apart?  Why make me think that I was going to be with this man for the rest of my life and then make the rest of my life last only 3 years.  What now?  I don’t know who I am now.  How to fix a crystal vase?  You can’t!  You can try, but the imperfections are visible.  Those are all questions that I thought had already been put to rest and then all of a sudden they come to the surface again.

I am more impatient.  I want things done yesterday.  I am tougher on people closer to me.  I expect more, I expect people to proof themselves.  I thought I was just being an Aries, but instead was more than that, I am still dealing with hurt.

I am extremely tough on dates.  They have their work cut out for them.  It will not be easy getting into my heart anymore.  I guess I am being difficult with everyone to keep them away from me.  Perhaps my anger is my bullet proof vest .

It all gets back to Ex.  Why is that, 2 years after he still feel as fresh in my life as if it was yesterday?  No, I am not in love with him anymore, but I have come to the realization that I will love him forever.

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” 
― Rumi

Ex is a scar in my body and my life and it is up to me to decide how I want to display that scar. Hide it as a shameful secret? Show it off as a badge of honor? Ignore it as a non-event? Or come to love it and accept as a natural life occurence?

I have instances when I want to talk to him and demand an apology.  In my mind, if I heard him accepting his mistakes and apologizing for them, then it would be okay for me to be friends with him.  I want to be okay to talk to him, but without an apology it feels too much like I am disrespecting myself.  We trade texts once in a blue moon on superficial matters.  At those times I catch myself caring about him and thinking of him as a friend.  I see myself wanting to share news with him.   When I catch myself I am terrified!  I quickly make a mental effort to remember all the lies and betrayals.  We are not friends, and can never be!  We share a past and that is it!  I am so afraid to let him back in my life!

Why is it so easy for me to be angry at others and yet to be angry at him it takes effort?

When I think I am over it all, that I am a better person for it, I realize I am an angrier person for it.  Back to the drawing board!! Back to trying to figure things out!  Back to trying to be whole again, and not just damaged goods!

I am so confused, and I am diving my heart crazy!  One second I tell it to just love!  Love all things, love the ones who love you, but above all, love the ones that hurt you even more.  And then I feel the need to remind it of what happens when you love, how vulnerable you become, and how you become a prey.

Yet I know better than to become this old angry woman!  I thank my sister for making me realize that I had made a wrong turn on the road to recovery.  I promise to be more watchful of my words and actions.  Hurting anyone with angry words is not what I wanted or intended.

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it…” 
― Nicholas Sparks

I will continue to tell my heart to love above all things! But it is also okay to be a little guarded.  Navigating that fine line will be key!

This is a post that I never saw it coming, but it is here and now I have to deal with it!  I feel somewhat embarrassed for such a post, for such weakness, for all of a sudden feeling less of a poster girl in dealing with a breakup, for such unawareness about myself.   But what am I dealing with it here?  The true definition of love and forgiveness?  The different ways in which pain manifests itself? Just another stage in the grieving process?  Surviving the loss of love?  How I see myself versus how the word sees me? Inability to let go of the past? Lies we tell ourselves?

Final thought: Just love, love, love and when in doubt, love some more!

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