the tears...

I have been journaling these past few weeks—by hand!—and it is helping. Yet as I flew home from Italy earlier this week I hit that spot again, and wept quietly while going to the gate in Münich.

Gently, softly, without notice, as they started a while ago and have continued every so often,

…the tears: of love lost, hope, struggle within and yearning

streamed down my cheek even more so as the plane took off.

I know that it was not me, yet I wonder, what drives someone to consciously decide to stop loving? It is fear inside, the fear of being vulnerable and being loved. It was not me, who I am and what I bring to the table that ended it. I was left behind. And I think that is the worst place to be. Or is it?

It is the first time that I did not chase. The little girl inside wants to act, the adult says no, not right now. I have wanted to pick up the phone, yet what stops me is knowing that I did not decide this, I was powerless in the current outcome and it is not for me to mend. Ball is in the other court.

The pain every now and again surfaces, much less as of late for I am choosing not to have negative energy take away my spirit. What makes it a challenge is that I know deep inside the love did not die, it was even admitted to me as I was heading towards immigration a few weeks ago. And then as I was getting stamped I briefly looked over my shoulder… I will never forget what I saw.

I know why it came to an unannounced halt (I think that is partly why I ache sometimes, I was not prepared for the sudden departure). Knowing the true reason—running away in fear, going back to the only thing that can take the fear of being loved away by moving, changing jobs, whatever logic/excuse used to escape the feelings—is what makes it harder. I am empathetic and compassionate and can see through the bullshit. However, it would ease things if *I am not prepared to do this right now, I will not be able to love you as I should, I am not ready for this right now* was said-- the willingness to come clean with the true reason via self honesty behind the run.

On the flip—what if there are no tears? Too angry? Insensitive? Or the period of numbness?

So as silence hits, as things slow down and the opportunity for bittersweet memories of love lost start to resurface, I remember that I gave it my all that was warranted at that time. And I smile, for the experience alone was thrilling while it lasted, creating memories that puts the sparkle back into my eyes, and I move along I realizing that I am overcoming this. The freedom!!!

Proof in point? I am embracing everything, had a great time in Poland, and have more exciting things to come!

question: when do your tears fall?