An Amazing Accomplishment
I think it might be because I got into an argument on a blog and those arguments have always left me feeling emotionally drained and somewhat unstable. I really need to stay away from that - I hadn't done any of that in probably a year and I don't even know why I went back to that blog and engaged. Anyway, I got to missing Irene again today, but feeling sad and crying for a few minutes wasn't really a bad thing. It got me to thinking about how far we've come, what we've accomplished so far in a very short period of time.
It's really remarkable when you think about it. As emotionally committed as I am to her, and as constantly together as we were, and as much as she means to me, the fact that now, four months later, I'm fully happy most of the time is nothing short of astonishing. I can't overstate this. I should have been completely destroyed by Irene's death. I should be inconsolable and utterly miserable all day every day. There have been days I've felt that pain - and I've reported it here - what I should have felt like every day since she passed, and believe me, nobody would wish that on their worst enemy.
Yet there are people that probably did not feel as connected to their spouse, nor spent the kind of time together that we did, that endure soul-draining grief every day for years. Losing the one that they love more than anything can put an end to all joy and happiness for the rest of one's days because there are wounds that time cannot heal and pain so deep in simply swallows you.
That's where I should be right now, but instead I find myself excited with anticipation for when we reunite fully. I am capable of experiencing real joy with no sense of loss. Most of the time I feel very connected to Irene, whole, and complete. Much of the time I feel very enthusiastic about whatever I have to do to move forward down this path of further developing our relationship. I feel like we are still kidding around and making each other laugh much of the time, and that I'm experiencing things she wants me to know and feel.
I really feel that when I talk to her, she can hear me and feel the meaning and emotion of what I'm saying. I love being able to talk to her any time I want. I love it that she's completely healthy and safe now. I love it that she is able to do her thing now - take care of her family. I love it that she is in a place now that will provide her curiosity and creativity with endless delights and opportunities! I love it that, no matter what I do now, we've already won and we will be fully and completely together very soon, writing the continuing story of our beautiful, incredible love story.
If this continues and we gain nothing more - if I can't astral project or ever interact with her any better than what I can now until I die, then we have already succeeded in what we wanted to do beyond anything we could have expected, and in way, way less time than we ever could have hoped for.
It occurs to me that sharing just what we have done so far, and how we did it, might be of great value to others. Perhaps it could help others who are facing the death of their beloved or are experiencing devastating grief. So, maybe it's time to write a book? Thinking about it.
It's really remarkable when you think about it. As emotionally committed as I am to her, and as constantly together as we were, and as much as she means to me, the fact that now, four months later, I'm fully happy most of the time is nothing short of astonishing. I can't overstate this. I should have been completely destroyed by Irene's death. I should be inconsolable and utterly miserable all day every day. There have been days I've felt that pain - and I've reported it here - what I should have felt like every day since she passed, and believe me, nobody would wish that on their worst enemy.
Yet there are people that probably did not feel as connected to their spouse, nor spent the kind of time together that we did, that endure soul-draining grief every day for years. Losing the one that they love more than anything can put an end to all joy and happiness for the rest of one's days because there are wounds that time cannot heal and pain so deep in simply swallows you.
That's where I should be right now, but instead I find myself excited with anticipation for when we reunite fully. I am capable of experiencing real joy with no sense of loss. Most of the time I feel very connected to Irene, whole, and complete. Much of the time I feel very enthusiastic about whatever I have to do to move forward down this path of further developing our relationship. I feel like we are still kidding around and making each other laugh much of the time, and that I'm experiencing things she wants me to know and feel.
I really feel that when I talk to her, she can hear me and feel the meaning and emotion of what I'm saying. I love being able to talk to her any time I want. I love it that she's completely healthy and safe now. I love it that she is able to do her thing now - take care of her family. I love it that she is in a place now that will provide her curiosity and creativity with endless delights and opportunities! I love it that, no matter what I do now, we've already won and we will be fully and completely together very soon, writing the continuing story of our beautiful, incredible love story.
If this continues and we gain nothing more - if I can't astral project or ever interact with her any better than what I can now until I die, then we have already succeeded in what we wanted to do beyond anything we could have expected, and in way, way less time than we ever could have hoped for.
It occurs to me that sharing just what we have done so far, and how we did it, might be of great value to others. Perhaps it could help others who are facing the death of their beloved or are experiencing devastating grief. So, maybe it's time to write a book? Thinking about it.
YES !! You should write a book !
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