the end of a love story?

It turns out, I am not an “easy” person to love.

 

This is not some self-deprecating statement I make just to invite someone into encouraging me… “no, you?? You’re great. Really.” And in fact, just ask anyone I have been in a relationship with – oh they will tell you. Someone very dear to me recently said, “you are very passionate…in the moment. You feel so much…in the moment. But then the moment passes and it’s hard to be me when my moment passes.” It’s pretty accurate. And in some ways, thank God for that. I wouldn’t trade the fact that when I feel something, I really, really feel it and it feels like I will feel it forever. I mean, I wouldn’t want to let go of that energy – but I would like to settle in next to someone for the next 50 years…and I don’t know how that will work if I keep on being me. I guess what I am saying is – the love story that I wrote so much about and the man I made out to be my knight, well both may have been more in my mind than in reality. Writing about your life is a funny thing because in wanting to make someone else feel what I felt, it seems I made myself feel it all the more. Putting someone in a knight’s armor and watching as they save you doesn’t mean they will love you forever…it means you found a good guy and the armor fit…and well, you needed saving.

 

So, life got real after the trail and I used my special powers to turn something pretty good into something so exhausting that even the best guy couldn’t find the energy.

 

The week I came off the trail, I transformed from a peaceful, outdoorsy hippie to a tortured, panicked basket case. I felt like I failed and I couldn’t figure out if I left the trail for my own reasons or just to be with this man. I couldn’t really know if it was a sign of strength – I didn’t have to keep going just because I had momentum or a sign of weakness – the seat beside this man in his truck was so cozy. I spent the weak uncomfortable in my own skin. I looked at the weather everyday. I checked in with shuttle drivers to see if they were available SHOULD I decide to go back out. I readied my pet-sitters and child-carers. I repacked my gear and studied maps. I could not settle in and it didn’t help that I was on sabbatical so I didn’t have work to distract me. I thought I was having a week-long panic attack. Finally, I made the decision to go back out. I had a six-day course planned of extremely aggressive miles to get me to Damascus, Virginia. I would have to hike an average of 30 miles a day with zero rest. I was sick about going and sick about not going. I was fucked either way.

As I get older I am beginning to appreciate that I am never going to figure it out. The states of getting ready to make a decision, making a decision, dealing with the consequences of a decision...those are always ongoing. 

In the words of Buddist monk, Thich Nhat Hahn, "There is no way to happiness, happiness is the way. There is no way to peace, peace is the way. There is no way to enlightenment, enlightenment is the way." 

I guess that applies to love too...there is no way to love, love is the way.