For the last nine years, a beautiful, hand-crafted batik cloth has hung in my living room. It’s a piece of art from Puerto Vallarta, depicting a girl with a shell in her hands and a cat at her feet. It was a treasured housewarming gift from a close friend and colleague.
I gave it to my friend Linda today.
She asked why I was giving it away and I told her.
I said “it’s because of a heartbreak I never budgeted for.”
Let me explain.
We have no way of predicting how our lives will develop. What truths will become evident.
We live. We love. We grow. We trust. We behave. We misbehave. We age. We plan. We acquire. We lose. We reproduce. We reevaluate. We learn. We leave. We get left. We sometimes regret.
Mostly we just move forward, learning from our experiences and leaning towards the good, as much as possible.
There are times though, that sneak up on you.
Where things you thought were indissoluble, turn out to be as transient as a cake left out in the rain. One with all the sweet green icing flowing down.
Those times spring up on you. They surprise you. You hadn’t accounted for them.
This was one of those times.
A friendship that had thrived for years suddenly had the status update of “dead to me.”
I still haven’t resolved it.
I mourned it for years. I still mourn it, to some degree.
It’s said that we thrive because of the loss and sorrow in our lives, and I mostly agree with that sentiment.
You have to, I suppose, to keep yourself from slipping down a greased set of stairs on your way to depression.
You have to endure the heartbreak. Tolerate it at least. Embrace it if we can.
Then as my mother says “Acknowledge and move on.”
I say, be better for it.
And that’s it. That’s the unfettered truth of it all.
I’m a better person because of this unbudgeted heartbreak.
I have a better life now, than I did then. I have evolved in ways both professionally and personally, that I didn’t know I could.
I have, with resplendent resilience, moved on. Made new friends. Made a new life. A few times. Hell, I made a person in that time.
Every time I walked past this colorful piece of art, it reminded me that we are not friends anymore.
I’m ok with that, I just don’t need to be reminded of it several times a day.
Bad juju. Sad juju.
Something I don’t need to be tethered to.
I’d rather focus on the new, wonderful things and people that popped up in the place left by this heartbreak.
I choose to focus on possibility rather than pangs of disappointment.
I choose to thrive.