The red door
A ghost came back. Due to my job I´ve been having to scroll through my Facebook photographs. Oh, but what you encounter on Facebook is, well, your past. Your previous life. Your ex-boyfriend who you lived with for four years before you stormed out of the city and engaged in a new relationship straight away. No closure, no after-math, no sticking around for any review of any kind. No more I love yous.
In all honesty, I rarely thought about that relationship. Why would I? And surely, my memories were of the last year together, of the hard times, of the things that made us take the decision to part ways. If you would´ve asked me three months ago, I would´ve told you that it was always like that. Or that I didn´t care. Or that it wasn´t even an important relationship.
It´s like waking up from a dream, where you are waking up from a dream. Like going through two break-ups all together. Being a Gemini, it seems I work best in pairs!
But we were happy once. Really happy together. And really, madly in love. Seeing one picture brought a rush, a shit download of memories that were long-buried underneath the sand of my new town. More moments that I could imagine were stored in my personal ethereal cloud: Laughing, helping out each other to pick the Friday night attire, doing x-mas parties to collect gifts for the orphan kids, fixing an old door, dancing, more dancing, talking about work, or parallel universes with the evening Tecates, the beer catas, the bar hopping always searching for a new funky space, the constant changing of furniture, the flowers, the friends, the Sunday breakfast-xbox playing-movie watching, the welcome parties, the surprise visits, the Sundays at the hospital, the plaquettes laugh attack, the road trips, the pursue of victims for meditation, the anniversary presents, the giant pumpkin, the secret dates, the post-its, the scooter lessons, the freaking retro-juice blender and the vintage guitar. We always had a good soundtrack in our lives.
All of them, downloaded to my head. All at once. I was numb.
And there was something in my heart that sparkled. Some sort of forgiveness, or opening, or cleaning with Windex the arteries. I did not see this one coming. At all. And I cried while telling my best friend about it on an voice-message that lasted 12 minutes. Holy shit! Not enough releasing one break-up I was releasing two!!
I don´t follow his life on social media. I try my best not to engage in what he does now. I don´t know if he is happy or only cruising by. I really don´t. After a year I grabbed the phone to call him the day after Boy A broke up with me. Why? Who the hell knows. The familiarity? I just know it was the first person I thought of when shit exploded. It was a good talk. And I still did not ask about his life.
I wish him the best, I truly do, but the I am girl part of me secretly desires that he is still waiting for me to open the red door of our house and come home after my explorations in the world. And receive me with a red rose while my pop-corn machine magically made its way back and it´s there, in the background, shining and popping.
What I love about meditation and living - to the best of my ability - in the present moment, is the fact that healing, or the shit the comes up for review in order to let it go, always comes by itself, in the right time. I have no intention on understanding the human heart. It´s pointless. Why we want what we want, why we do what we do, why some things take longer to process than others, it´s all a mystery to me. We humans are strange creatures. I am.
So, even though I saw how I was refraining myself from writing what´s going on, fearful of who might or might not read it, I gotta be honest with myself. What would be the point of writing if honesty is out the window? Social encounters have so many forms and correct ways of behaving already.
So I cannot, and will not be concerned about this. It´s my vow to myself.
So I guess it´s a good thing that the good memories got restored in my hardware. I dunno who´s idea was it to hit the Restore button though, not mine. I guess it´s balanced out: I have the good and the bad ones. The ones that became too heavy once to allow me to keep going. The same ones I had to recite to my best friend so I wouldn´t get confused and follow a white rabbit. For a few moments I couldn't figure out how did we end up here. These memories are not up to do something with them. They are just up. They did something with my heart and then they´ll go. Or keep coming. What? Who knows. I do not have the answers to anything in life. I am aware that I am going through a major transition (or two since I didn´t let the previous one hit me). All I know is that I am passionate to keep living it.
It´s just what happened. Bring it on life, I am not afraid of you.