Being Vulnerable

My heart was shattered beyond belief. My husband, my love, my passion put a gun to his head and killed himself. I was inconsolable for weeks; heart out of my chest and largely non-functional in my practice, my life and my head. I questioned whether my life would ever have any meaning and what I might be able to endure emotionally. I closed off everything to everyone as I tried to make sense of what had happened. Even now, as I write this, there is no sense to be made of a senseless act. How could anyone so breathtakingly talented commit this act? What was so terrible in his life that he would end it?

I can say that there was no warning. He was considerate, smiling, joyful in his performances and delightfully in communication with me. If anything, he was almost too considerate, smiling with his intelligent but deeply piercing blue eyes; taking care that his wonderful red mustache was perfectly trimmed along with his fiery red hair. His sky blue eyes twinkled with laughter as we engaged in that verbal sparring that I loved and enjoyed so much. “You are the last person  and the best person on earth that I will love,” he would say as he held me for a few seconds. I miss his gregarious hugs and embrace of life as it came. He loved to sip wine in the evening, tease me about my academics and put the finishing touches of perfection on every piece he prepared for performance. So it was that I probably was the last person that he loved. Even now, I am just not sure as I can’t trust that anymore. I just can’t trust that I am even a good person or even a kind person.

As I ran on this unusually warm February morning, heading along the lake, my mind kept running to the reasons that he might have had to take his life. In short, there were none. There was no reason to what he did except to kill any chance of safety and certainty that I would ever have in terms of an emotional bond with another person. I can’t allow myself to be vulnerable enough to love another in that manner as I almost didn’t survive these past months; still not sure that I will survive yet.

I have found connections that are close, spiritual and downright joyful. Recently, I found myself laughing to the point of tears but then the tears of sadness are with me too. I find that I am wonderfully attracted to an energy, a passion of creativity and spirit only to fall back into these feelings of darkness. I don’t trust myself in this territory of deep blackness. So I run and I meditate and hope for vulnerability. I can’t allow myself to feel anything other than being such a terrible partner that the person I loved most had to kill himself. The reason had to be me because there was no other reason. I can’t allow another person into this circle of hell with me.


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