My purple ex

So the mantra goes, ‘time heals all wounds.’

When a relationship ends, it hurts.  This one did.  And it still hurts.

Eyes were down, when they should have been up.  Thoughts and attention were reflected inward, when they should have been elsewhere, broader.  Ignorance, arrogance, neglect, complacency – on reflection elements of each existed.  Although nobody, even the most sceptical, could have seen it coming.

When at least one party still believes in the relationship, still believes it can work, even at its death, but just needs time to work things out, one feel cannot feel a sense of regret.  Could more have been done?

But it is too late for that.

Some say it was karma.  They point their finger, look down their nose and sneer,

‘You burnt many good souls along the way and now someone you held so dear and had such high hopes for, has left you.’

You deserve it.  It is your karma.

‘Anyway, you had your chance to make it work and let it slip.’

Time moves on and the person it slowly etched into the history books.  A date is drawn alongside their name.  The lid on their box is shut and put away.  Their chapter is closed, though many feel it is incomplete and will forever be.  It is closure, though with a sense of unease.

Time moves on.

The future beckons.

One puts on a brave face,

‘I have moved on.’

‘I have found someone new.’

‘I am happy.’

Deep down though, one would go back.

Surely differences could be reconciled and we could be great again!  Couldn’t we?

‘Move on,’ you are told, ‘you cannot live in the past!’  Now and then memories of the ‘cracks in the relationship’ revisit the consciousness, words said in anger echo, yet they are dismissed.  We could be different.  I can change.  Forgiveness.  Nothing can shake the lingering feeling of what could have been.  There is a hollow.

The forward momentum of life insists on closure, compels an embrace of the future.  One is swept up in it and, if for nothing else than self preservation, one floats along with it.  A future which was unplanned for and honestly, unwanted.  No matter how hard one tries, the new future is welcomed with a forced smile, at least initially.

Time moves on.

The new relationship has its own excitement – changes for the better.

Though thoughts often drift to the former love and the mind, heart and soul are unsettled.  I wonder.  One looks on at the former love and their new life.  Their success hurts.  Sure, one wishes them happiness, but it hurts all the same.  That could have been us – smiling, embracing and happy.

That could have been us.

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