Hard Things & Letting Go

My mother once told me that if you love something, let it go. As a teenager, saturated with urgency and my desire to have everything right now, I could not understand. It seemed counter-intuitive to let go of something I loved. My natural inclination was to hold on as tight as I could. Now I believe that letting go is as vital as the trees shedding their leaves in the fall. Throughout our lives, we must learn to let go of control if we choose to be happy. I decided a long time ago that my uttermost focus in life was to be happy. I chose this from inside a place of darkness and naivety in how to get from where I was to where I wanted to be. Because I am so familiar with being on either side of this mastery, I can tell you what I’ve learned in the space in between.

My mother, not one for words of comfort, told me this when I broke up with my high school sweetheart. I was leaving for Germany in a few months to be an au pair for a year, and Ric couldn’t cope with the idea of a long-distance relationship. I was eviscerated by our breakup. I spent days and nights curled in a ball on my bedroom floor. One night I was in terrible shape, and I noticed my parents getting ready to go out. I begged them to stay home. I cried and pleaded with them, but all they saw was the juvenile heartbreak that everyone goes through and recovers from. When they left, I swallowed a bottle of pills. I slept for two days straight. I’m not sure if they even checked on me. Though they may have underestimated how depressed I was, it was undeniable that I needed to let go.

I’m not going to tell you it was easy. What started as a prolonged heartbreak and depression eventually turned into melancholic longing. A longing I pushed down and locked away and refused to acknowledge, for it would bring back all the hurt again. One day, I found in its place that I wished him well. I hoped that Ric was happy with his life and that he and his wife shared real love. I let go with love. I wished him happiness time and again. I kept tabs on him through our families, and when I heard of his struggles, I wished for healing for him. When I heard of his successes, I was happy for him. I never expected that love to return, so I moved on, got married, and had children.

Letting go of control. It is as tough as it sounds. We’ve all known what it’s like to want something so badly we can taste it and be disappointed with the outcome. The result is either different than we expected or nothing at all. This can be incredibly frustrating and disillusioning. I’ve hollowly cried many times in my life, ‘Why can’t I have what I imagine will make me happy?’. The only way to find peace within the diversions is with faith. You may see that I reference God a lot in my writing though I don’t consider myself a religious person. What I mean by that simple three-letter word is the enormity of the universe and everything in it. I envision it as the higher frequency with which we are all connected. The place of perfect love that we come from and return to. The spirit that gently guides our lives. Have you ever had a terrible day, nothing seems to go right, and you are late for everything? Then you hear about the fifteen-car pileup on the highway when you would have been on it. We cannot know what lies in front of us. If circumstances beyond your control have set obstacles in front of you and redirected you, despite your frustration, accept that the path you had to go down was better than the one you thought you should. This is faith, and it’s integral to letting go.

If someone wants to head in the other direction from you, let them. Send them off with good wishes and go live your best life. You will find soon enough whether it was meant to be. A friend once told me the difference between love and lust is how long it takes you to get over someone. I have fancied myself in all-consuming love, only to find that when it’s ended, and I’ve gained a little perspective with distance, I no longer feel that way. Whether it’s true love or just infatuation the answer will be seen easily in hindsight. Love never leaves, but lust fades fast. For twenty years, I secretly, and at times resentfully, loved Ric. For my sanity, I told myself that he did not love me and never had. During the next couple of years after our breakup, I would wish into the darkness of my secret soul that one day we would end up together. He was in so much pain. His mother had died in a car accident a couple of months before we began dating, not something a sixteen-year-old should have to suffer through. I, myself, was fear-driven and insecure. We were a catastrophic mess together, but we were so in love. The spark we had when we looked into each others’ eyes was like nothing I could explain. Still, I held onto the fantasy that one day we would be two whole individuals that would make something beautiful together.

Almost twenty years to the day that he had asked me on our first date, he landed on my doorstep. He had visited my dad and found out that I was separated, as he was. I had hardened my heart so purposely against his heroin-like love for so long, but I couldn’t keep my defences up. Before the end of our second first date, he told me that he had always loved me and that we were meant to be together. I let love go, and it came back. I couldn’t have imagined in my heartbroken state that it would be so far in the future, but my mother was right. If you love something, let it go, and if it comes back to you, cradle it gently for as long as it stays.