Quest concluded
Jul. 6th, 2015 23:16![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
torquillThe converse of falling off the edge of myself is when large pieces of me essentially fall out of the sky.
All my life I've fought pain and distress, more than I could handle alone. All my life I've searched for someone to help, to lean on, so that it wouldn't be so overwhelming. So that maybe the pain would go away. I found a few such people, for brief periods, but then the hope faded and the search began again.
I finally found who I needed, and the pain is (mostly) gone. He isn't mine to keep, but that's okay: now that I've been able to heal the pain and rebuild, I don't need a person like that anymore. We can enjoy a casual relationship from here on out, or fall into friendship. I don't need him to be always by my side to lean on.
The quest is over.
It hit me while I was driving home tonight, and I cried as I laughed. Such a huge burden that I didn't even realize I was carrying; keeping a watchful eye out for someone, anyone, who might fit the bill... until now. It occurred to me that I don't actually need a partner anymore, and I laughed harder. I could be single for the rest of my life, and I'd be okay. Before this, that was a terrifying prospect. Now I just shrug.
I'd never known what it felt like to be whole before. It's very freeing.
I cried as I was laughing because, it turns out, letting go of dreams whose pursuit has brought you nothing but grief is just as hard as letting go of dreams which were only stillborn hopes.
It was part of me for as long as I can remember, and now it's gone, and it wrenches at me even while I'm laughing because I'm finally free of it. The last time I remember feeling like this was when it finally hit me that I was done with college.
I would be cast adrift, except that this is the reason I built Sam. I could look at my life and say, now that I've lost this core part of my life, who am I now? But I already have the answer: I am Sam. My construct was there to catch me. I know who Sam is now, and I'm solid enough in that sense of self that I have an anchor. The quest was Alison's, but I am not her anymore; it's time to wrap up those parts of her and put them with the rest.
I don't have to panic because I have no one to hold me and to sleep next to. I suspect I'll come across someone, in time, but I don't have to hunt anymore. And I just realized that Amy is finally quiet. She'd been panicking about the prospect of Akien getting a job and not having any free time... but now all I'm getting is a quiet "Are you sure we'll be okay?"
I'm pretty sure, Amy. After all, nobody can abandon us if our happiness isn't dependent on them being around. Right? And friends are pretty easy to come by if we won't be scaring them off by being clingy. So that's two anxieties put to rest. All I need is to spend some time really seeing how things are different, and the rest of the anxieties should fade away.
I'll always need some human contact. I'm happier when I get physical touch regularly. But those things no longer have to fill a gaping hole in me; they just add to my well-being. I'll be okay if I don't get touch, just like I'll be okay if I don't spend time in the garden for a while.
I'd never felt this profound sense of separation from my old life before. It's a conclusion, a definite end. From here on out, it's a different game entirely. All I need to do is make some new rules.
All my life I've fought pain and distress, more than I could handle alone. All my life I've searched for someone to help, to lean on, so that it wouldn't be so overwhelming. So that maybe the pain would go away. I found a few such people, for brief periods, but then the hope faded and the search began again.
I finally found who I needed, and the pain is (mostly) gone. He isn't mine to keep, but that's okay: now that I've been able to heal the pain and rebuild, I don't need a person like that anymore. We can enjoy a casual relationship from here on out, or fall into friendship. I don't need him to be always by my side to lean on.
The quest is over.
It hit me while I was driving home tonight, and I cried as I laughed. Such a huge burden that I didn't even realize I was carrying; keeping a watchful eye out for someone, anyone, who might fit the bill... until now. It occurred to me that I don't actually need a partner anymore, and I laughed harder. I could be single for the rest of my life, and I'd be okay. Before this, that was a terrifying prospect. Now I just shrug.
I'd never known what it felt like to be whole before. It's very freeing.
I cried as I was laughing because, it turns out, letting go of dreams whose pursuit has brought you nothing but grief is just as hard as letting go of dreams which were only stillborn hopes.
It was part of me for as long as I can remember, and now it's gone, and it wrenches at me even while I'm laughing because I'm finally free of it. The last time I remember feeling like this was when it finally hit me that I was done with college.
I would be cast adrift, except that this is the reason I built Sam. I could look at my life and say, now that I've lost this core part of my life, who am I now? But I already have the answer: I am Sam. My construct was there to catch me. I know who Sam is now, and I'm solid enough in that sense of self that I have an anchor. The quest was Alison's, but I am not her anymore; it's time to wrap up those parts of her and put them with the rest.
I don't have to panic because I have no one to hold me and to sleep next to. I suspect I'll come across someone, in time, but I don't have to hunt anymore. And I just realized that Amy is finally quiet. She'd been panicking about the prospect of Akien getting a job and not having any free time... but now all I'm getting is a quiet "Are you sure we'll be okay?"
I'm pretty sure, Amy. After all, nobody can abandon us if our happiness isn't dependent on them being around. Right? And friends are pretty easy to come by if we won't be scaring them off by being clingy. So that's two anxieties put to rest. All I need is to spend some time really seeing how things are different, and the rest of the anxieties should fade away.
I'll always need some human contact. I'm happier when I get physical touch regularly. But those things no longer have to fill a gaping hole in me; they just add to my well-being. I'll be okay if I don't get touch, just like I'll be okay if I don't spend time in the garden for a while.
I'd never felt this profound sense of separation from my old life before. It's a conclusion, a definite end. From here on out, it's a different game entirely. All I need to do is make some new rules.
