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Posts Tagged ‘endings’

Well, it’s over.

My first relationship since the death of my husband lasted three months and ended with an exchange of emails. It’s been pretty obvious from the change in your behavior that this is not the right time for us, I said. He agreed. He said he was “sorry it’s going down like this” and that he’s not happy with himself at all for the way he handled it. That makes two of us.

Compared to the pain of my husband’s suicide, this hurt was like stubbing a toe. The sudden startling pain made me cry and I hopped around swearing for a little while, and then I limped for a little while longer… and I’m gonna have a little bruise there… But I’m OK.  Better than OK, even.

Last weekend I went to hear some live music, a solo performance by a talented guitarist and composer in a small, intimate venue. At the end of the first set he did a cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” which is one of my all time favorite songs (though I prefer Rufus Wainwright’s version). It moved me to tears, especially when the audience was singing a softly echoing chorus of hallelujahs back to him. There’s a line in that song that always reminds me of my late husband:

“Remember when I moved in you, the holy dark was moving too, and every breath we drew was hallelujah…”

Yes. Making love with my beloved husband was like that… every time, every breath was hallelujah. With New Guy it was… well, it was fine but the earth didn’t move, let’s put it that way. Now I know that it takes time with a new partner to get to know each other’s bodies and really understand how to please each other, and I think we could have gotten the physical stuff right if we’d kept at it. But there was something missing — passion, intensity, depth — that was there the very first time my late husband kissed me all those years ago. And sitting in a dark room, softly singing hallelujah, I understood that anything less than that would be settling. And I’m not ready to settle.  I’m not willing to accept that I only get one chance at that kind of passion, that kind of connection. I’m going to keep looking until I find it again.

It’s time to ramble on.

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