July

It was June, not July, when she sang to me for the first time. Her voice was beautiful like birdsong, it went straight into me and reverberated against my ribs, my lungs, my heart, and I fell in love with her all over again. At the time, I was so captivated by this unexpected vulnerability that the words of the song didn’t hit me. I was still caught up in the fog of grief, yet to find the clarity of anger. She felt those words though as they tinkled from between her lips that night; I know it now that I’ve rolled them over my own tongue time after time.

She didn’t know that she’d turned on a light for me that night, that the memories of the past months had been set aside, locked in neat little boxes in my brain. She turned on the light, but she didn’t ask me to look. I opened those boxes when I was ready, when my heart was strong enough to sift through the things I’d hidden inside. It’s shocking what you’re able to put up with when you’re clouded by love. I remember all the times I took pause, frozen with fear, trying to find the perfect words. I remember the nights I went to bed early, escaping the turmoil and hiding in the soft pillowed safety of our bed as I counted the number of times I heard the crack of a fresh cold can. I remember the sound of my heart beating loud in my chest, but not loud enough to drown out the pounding of fists on the locked guest room door. I remember her comforting words illuminating the darkness as I fell asleep on a tear dampened pillow. I remember feeling like I couldn’t do anything right no matter how hard I tried. And, I remember waking up to yet another apology and that hopeful feeling brought on by the light of a new day. I thought that things would actually get better. Because, love truly can conquer all, right?

It can’t. And, when he asked me to leave, I didn’t want to, but I did anyway. I never could say no to him.

There’s one part of this song that doesn’t fit my story though. I’m not afraid of change. I never have been. Some of the most extraordinary moments in my life have occurred because I jumped into something with both feet and no fear. I’m good at getting rid of old baggage, letting go of negativity has always helped to clear my mind and set me on the right path. Change has always been good to me, and it’s nice to remember that right now when my whole life has been turned upside down.

She’s weathered this change with me, walking gingerly with bare feet as she navigates her own uncertainty. We are hand in hand, but we are on our own too. Each of us finding our own way, and when we stumble, we have each other to lean on. I’ve seen so much good come from this already, but one thing stands out. My love for her has changed, it’s grown, it’s taken on a more defined shape. I’m no longer tethered, I’m free to let my love for her be what it wants to be.

It’s funny how life works sometimes, how people come and go. Sometimes they’re ripped away too soon, and sometimes someone shows up on your doorstep right at the moment you need them. You might not even know it yet, but soon their importance becomes so apparent. I don’t know if I would have survived this with out her. I don’t know how I would have coped with this loss if I didn’t have her to hold me and guide me. I’m so grateful for her.

July is almost over now, and we have moved out of the Heartbreak Pad, leaving behind the secluded comfort it offered us. I’m no longer able to escape and hide away, and I’ve almost settled into a new kind of normal. I’m beginning to feel more comfortable as the days slowly pass, and I have so much to look forward to in my future. Even though there is so much uncertainty in front of me, I’m ready to jump. No matter where I land, I know I’ll be okay. And if I’m ever having a bad day, I can recall that night and the sound of her voice rising and falling in the darkness and I will smile.