But those are two out of ten that I abstain any connection from, leaving, at least 8, that I would happily reconnect in a new season of life with the label of friend or perhaps only to clear the air of past pains caused by our breakup. Success of being able to be friends with my exes comes into being with the five formers that I have maintained an warm, open camaraderie with since our romantic relationships ended. In so many ways, these friendships have made a more lasting significance in my life deeper than even the days of our long ago romance. Moreover, a friendship reunited with them seems natural when thinking that once upon a time they were MY everything, rather, what I hoped would be my truest love. (This was before I realized I am polyamorous.) Because of the memory of our romantic highs, the lows of the heart-break, the time apart, the coming together as friends is one that has deeply enriched our lives in ways numerous. For that, I am grateful.
But, as time passes, it is natural for a friend or former connection to slip away into their own universe, as with the busyness of our lives, our connections shift and change, seemingly to forget those we once shared the path of life alongside.
For me, though, deep within, I never forget.
If ever I said "I love you" in whatever capacity, friend or lover, I meant it. And, even though the relationship dynamic has shifted, the love remains, the gratitude for the lessons and experiences alongside deepens, making me better and wiser even today. Because of this, I find myself at times looking back, wanting to reach out, or just peek to see how the ones I loved and lost are doing.
The heartbreak all over again when I learned that one I once loved, specifically held hands with as we walked the path of romance, has slipped off this mortal coil. Within the context of former romantic connections, whether they are known to you in some present form or not, they remain forever the age when once you were in the throes of infatuated young love. Hearing of their passing, whatever the cause, taints the memory and rekindles the crushing blow of heart-ache even more than before. Was this the fate they were meant for, even back when we were united?
In early 2017, I learned of the passing in May 2016 of the first boy who took my hand and walked me through the valley of romance, he the giver of my first kiss and a little bit more. He and I had re-connected as friends via Facebook, but had not chatted that much through the years. I had tagged him in a photo in June of 2016, of which he made no comment (below is the link to that photo). Finding out the reason in 2017 was a gut-wrenching sadness. I couldn't focus that week on President Obama's exit, so much was the heart-ache of losing a part of my youth.
Now, as I walk the journey of recovery, I feel led to reach out to those I have wounded and make amends, not to rekindle any friendship, but to relieve myself of the burden of regret. My utter shock when I discovered that yet another former flame had left this earth behind,ironically in the same month and year as the other. This former boyfriend I had dated in my late twenties when as a fundie Christian I had led him back to the Lord and then subsequently had my first ever break down leading to my first diagnosis. Because of this and the abuse I had experienced in my life from a myriad of places and of which I was still suffering, I couldn't see beyond the curtain of my own pain, lost in my own inner darkness, I could not understand how my actions were wounding those around me. So,this last week, in a better place than I was then, I reached out to this dear man, hoping to alleviate and heal to apologize and to show him that I am better than I ever imagined possible, only to receive the resounding gong of loss of life and opportunity.
In the wake of this, as I experience the sadness of grief, is it possible for me to make amends with him? A writing ritual cleansing shouting out to the universe? A Hamlet-esque experience where I avenge untimely death? Or, is it more important than to make amends within myself? I find myself knowing he would appreciate the latter, not the former.
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