intentions, illusions and integration

nine years.
nine years of holding memory as if it is the only thing connecting us.
nine years of worrying memories one after another like beads
this year i am trying something different
this year i am trying to make something out of this month, this day
this year i am trying to allow myself to heal in some of the places i have not even dared acknowledge
this year i am trying to create a space for movement

i have no illusions about closure
but i have illusions about possibility, and the possibility of transformation
i cannot make this not have happened
i cannot un-lose you
but i can choose to remember differently
instead of thinking first of all of the things that cause me pain, i can try like hell to get myself out of that loop and think of something else, something that is not about you or me, but instead about a moment when we laughed until we cried, a surprise for both of us, something somehow outside of us that connected us more deeply than so many scripted moments

i can try like hell just to love you, to send love to you over all these miles and days
to send the pure light of love to you
but this time, instead of wishing and wanting that love to somehow heal you
this time, i will try to be open to the possibility that the very fact of that love may begin to heal those places that are still so raw and filled with disbelief, that are still so raw with regret, still so heavy with responsibility and powerlessness

today marks the 9th anniversary of your last full evening alive.
and maybe, it marks the moment when i finally decide that it is time to welcome home some of the fearful and wounded parts of myself, held so carefully and so closely and so secretly for such a long long time.

admitting there is still so much healing to do is daunting and makes me feel small and vulnerable.
but admitting that there is still so much healing to do is freeing too.
it is hard to keep such a big secret. it takes effort, even if that effort is one i hardly notice for what it is anymore. i know i trip myself up with it over and over and over again, disguised maybe as fear of failure. fear of making mistakes. fear of connecting. fear of hope.

so today, i will try to open my heart to the wounded parts of myself. those i have been shoving down and ignoring with such fervor, with such an intense desire to make them just go away. all of those pieces i have wished were no longer broken, but are. those that are still filled with shame. those that are filled with regret.