i can't let go
Sometimes I can’t let things go. For better or for worst.
I lost someone near and dear to me. I can’t let his voice go. His jokes, his laughter, the occasional throat clearing… it sticks. It stays glued to the inside of my brain. I don’t want to let it go. I’m torn; sad he’s gone, but comforted at the thoughts that bring me back for even a moment. I can’t let go because the three seconds of joy upon the remembrance is worth the 10 minutes of heartbreak following my memories.
I don’t want to let go of the things that once served as groundwork in my life. A sturdy, real piece of me. Now gone. Would you want to let go?
I suppose to create a new you, you have to kill the old ways. Make room for growth and let stagnant fragments fall off. The common understanding of today’s picture-perfect being is “zero room for dead-weight”.
What if I want these memories to stick around. They remind me I’m still human. I still have a heart and feelings, no matter how complete I try to make myself.
For now, I think this “deadweight” helps. I’ll keep it. I may fall into my moments of grief once in a while. But it will pass. My memories make me who I am. Every interaction and moment has chiseled me into my person today.
In a previous blog, I compared the loss of someone close to a room. We build that room together, cleaning and making it into a comfortable environment. Every minute spent building that room is a moment closer to that person. But the cost of having good people around is that one day we’ll have to say goodbye. All at once, I’m alone in that room. They’ve left. And now I have a choice to leave or to stay. Dwell on my current state or leave and move on.
For now, I think I’ll keep the key to that room. I’ll visit. Because I can’t let things go. The “better” comforts me to a degree. The “worst” stings, but only temporarily. Never lose your human. And remember it’s ok to feel, One Day at a Time.
David Halvorson | 11 April 2019 | @dhalvy99