Wholehearted

"She never seemed shattered;
To me, she was a breathtaking
mosaic of the battles she had 
won."

My heart is not shattered anymore.  It is no doubt battered and bruised, but I am once again, wholehearted.  I’ve let go of angry and bitter.   I think sadness may always linger.  And that’s ok.  I no longer resent the fact that I gave so much of my time and heart and oozed love for someone who couldn’t do the same.  I’m sad that our family had to pay so dearly for that.  But I found a strength that I desperately needed to walk away from it, by digging deep to get my kids through it.  And I have found a peace of mind and heart in hearing my once broken hearted babies assure me that they understand why I gave up on my relationship and still know, unequivocally, that I will never give up on them.  

I’m not afraid of love.  I remember it so fondly.  It has quite literally barged into my life these last few years, when I most desperately needed to be remind that I was worthy of it, and when I most certainly could not reciprocate with my shattered, war weary heart, as wholeheartedly as I was genuinely built to do.  I’ve learned some crushing lessons the hard way.  One is how selfish it is to offer a genuinely passionate lover with the very best of intentions, who looks at you as though they see their home and future in your eyes, and feels lucky, genuinely lucky to have you, anything less than the very same in return.  And another, is that I can love a man with all my healing heart, and still know when to look him in the eye and say “you’re just not the one”, because I was not built to be that selfish.  We all deserve someone who is convinced we are the one. 

I’ve had some great loves.   Loves that have shaped my vision of love and made me feel worthy of my quest for genuinely happy ever after.  Loves that have taught me that I deserve respect and loyalty and honesty and friendship and love.  Loves that I will love forever, even if they taught me a few of those lessons the hard way.  Loves I have loved enough to let go.  And I’ve been reminded of and become very familiar with the kind of lover i am when i am fearless and wholehearted; selfless, nurturing, supportive, romantic and passionate as hell, and how lucky someone will be to have the whole hearted me again.  

And I have forgiven the man who once had this whole hearted and devoted love in the palm of his hands, nurturing him and his children with all her heart and soul, and shattered it because he couldn’t help but always wonder if he could do better.  I’ve healed enough to know that he probably did love me quite a bit, but wasn’t about to (or able to) make himself vulnerable enough to do so as selflessly and unabashedly as i thrive on.   I’ve grown enough to feel genuinely sad for him (for us) for that, and to know I can’t fix it.  

Love.  I am not short on love.  I have been swimming in love since the day I became a mother and I soak in that blissfulness.  But my healed, whole heart has reminded me that I am a lover; a fiercely passionate lover.   And it’s scars remind me that I’ve earned my high standards and great expectations and that it takes courage to love fearlessly and with an insatiable passion,.   And it’s peaceful resilience has convinced me to be patient and that I can trust it, wholeheartedly, to know when it finds and feels “the one”.