The Song Remembers When

This song by Trisha Yearwood speaks such truth for me- just when I think that I'm good and done with something a song will come on and- BAM -I'm pulled right back to where that song had me at the time I remember it last.

Of course, with November and birthdays and such, it's not quite a song but a smell- a time of year- the chill in the air- that brings me back to two very painful memories; Sean and David. Sean, is not as painful of a memory because, looking back, I see that we learned from each other, he saw that we weren't meant to be together, and made a decision that ended up being best for both of us... What's painful about that memory is the reminder of how much I loved him and how much my heart ached when he broke up with me. But I don't feel like he's missing from my life, and I don't wonder what might have been.

The other painful memory that haunts me is David. And that's not even a romantic-he-broke-my-heart memory, really. I mean, we all know I crushed on him sooo bad, but I got over that years ago. And it's not even really a memory that has me upset, it's the tiny little hole that I just can't seem to fill after he did what he did, and then made such a mockery of me, of everything. As much as I try not to think about it- EVER -I still wish he could be here for this, or that I could pick up the phone and call him for that, or that I should send him a Christmas card, or apologize for standing my ground and telling him that I'm worth more than how he treated me, that I really didn't mean it and I want him to be my friend again. Of course, this is when I realize that he did mention that he never wanted me as a friend, and then I get all pissed off at him again.

I wish that there was a Hatian (like in the TV series Heroes) who could just pull out that thread of memory from my mind, my heart, and my soul - life would be so much easier if I could just never- EVER -think of David again. Especially around times when we shared so much joy. I will never understand how someone can do what he did and live with himself, especially as a Catholic, since guilt is part of our genetic make up, and especially as someone who wants to be a priest. How can he live with causing someone so much pain?

Anyway. I have to get ready for the day, it's a busy one. As I count down the days until my birthday there's a part of me that is trying really hard to convince the rest of me to break down and email or write to David, invite him to come to my birthday party, rebuild that bridge I told him was closed- not burned- but closed. *heavy sigh* But I won't. I can't. I need to respect myself more than that. I can very easily understand why the battered wife goes back to the husband who beats the hell out of her... there's a past, there's a history, there's the memory of the joy you had together, and the fact that you know he really does love you on some level otherwise he never would have had all those wonderful memories with you... and he said he'd never do it again, and he said that he was sorry.... although David never apologized, he never even mentioned it, he just ordered his coffee and played on his laptop like anyone else at Starbucks.

(and this is the voice of reason, coming in to kick my heart back into shape and do its best to patch that hole in my soul)

He battered my soul and I still want him in my life?!? What's wrong with me?! I wish I could step outside of myself to comfort me and have a conversation with me, tell myself what I tell other friends when someone has crushed them, be there to help put myself back together and get back on with life. I help put other people back together, I am strenghth for other people when they feel weak and weary, why can't I be that for myself?

Looking back on the last 30 years, reflecting on everything that's happened in the course of my life so far, there's just one regret- David. All of those "good times", all of those memories are not worth the pain he has caused me. When a person's soul is shattered, it never gets put back together the right way, there's always a piece or two that stays missing.