One year later...

One year later…

I’ve learned that failure is an option.  That my best intentions do not guarantee a perfect outcome, and loving with all my heart and soul does not promise the same.  I’ve learned that no love at all is better than unrequited love.   I’ve learned that I’m very lovable and it’s his loss.  I’m very lovable.

I’ve learned that at my weakest, with a broken heart and shattered, defeated spirit, I can charge through the darkest battles with four kids in protective tow.  I can hit rock bottom and bounce right back.  

I've learned that when I'm hurt, I can be very stubborn when I should be courageous, but I tend to come around.  

I’ve learned that fathers will never ever let their little girls down, and that the more you say “Dad, I’m fine.  Please don’t worry about me”  the more sleep Dad loses at night.  

I’ve learned that my children are resilient and strong and open minded and observant.  I couldn’t explain why I shattered our perfect family a year ago, despite my agonizing, tearful attempts.  But I think that now that I can’t be with them every moment, distracting them from some of the painfully obvious imperfections in our family, the more they understand why I walked away from the man I loved so hard for so long.  I like to think all of my praying and pleading that my children would learn that I walked away from my relationship and not our family has paid off.  They know why I’m not there.  They know I’m here.  I have always been here.  I will always be here.  I also like to think that we have all learned a few lessons in love; how to love and be loved.  Love it or lose it. 

I’ve learned that it is very difficult to get back on my feet after 12 years of raising kids and depending on a very strong, capable, hard working man.  It’s also very terrifying.  It’s also life changing and liberating.  I have the power to hold out for a most powerful and satisfying yet insatiably passionate love.  Somehow it makes me feel fearless.  

I’ve learned that I’m a lover.  It’s what I do.  I love people.  I’m passionate about it.  I pour my loving, generous soul into making my loved ones feel loved.  And I don’t really ask for much in return.  Raising kids is a thoroughly selfless and thankless job.  But if there is one thing I know for absolute certain, it’s that my babies love and adore and appreciate me more than anyone else in the whole wide world.  They can’t get enough of me.  It’s smothering and sometimes I think it might kill me, but it’s my absolute favorite thing in the world.  There is something far more tolerable and satisfying about the suffocating, ungrateful love and adoration of my children that seems more fixable than 14 years of unrequited love from the man I gave my all.  I’m too lovable for unrequited love. 

I’ve learned that I am my own worst enemy when I am heartbroken, and that even at the age of 40, I can still make some devastating, heartless mistakes and hurt people I love most in the world.  The kind of mistake that, when forgiven, reminds you that love is essential.  Love is friendship.  Love is all around.  Love is forever.  Love conquers all.  

I've learned that we are all in need of forgiveness.  To forgive, to be forgiven, to heal.  And this year, the universe, in it’s infinite wisdom, taught me a lesson about forgiveness that unleashed a ripple effect among my loved ones that tore us down just to set us up to rebuild, stronger.  i've learned to trust the universe.

I’ve learned that there are some very angry people out there.  People who will take your best intentions and weakest moment and use them to their advantage and your detrement.  Just because.  But…forgiveness. 

I’ve learned that some friendships are literally like life lines that get tattooed on our destiny for better or worse.  Eternal friendship.  

I've learned that Mr. Perfect is out there.  That mutual passion is out there.  That some men are not afraid of 4 kids.  That I'm worthy of hearing "I love you" and seeing it in his eyes.  That I'm not ready for Mr. Perfect yet. 

I've learned that the most improbable, unexpected and nonsensical events can be dead on.  

I’ve learned that some things are inevitable because the universe says so.  And that the more I tell the universe that I’m’ not going to do something, the more it reminds me not to give up on love.  The more I insist that my shattered heart is ice cold, the more the universe reminds me that I am a lover by nature.  The more I resent never having  heard “I love you” and swearing that I don’t want it anymore anyway, the more the universe hands it me and challenges me to know what to do with it now.  I am lovable.  I’m a lover.  Love is inevitable for me…

someday.