He Is Not For You, Dear One

by Aly Hazlewood on July 25, 2017

Vue de l'exposition

Recently a sweet friend submitted one of my writings to Elephant Journal, and they contacted me asking me to be a regular contributor. I said yes… but I have somewhat mixed feelings about it as I always write from such a vulnerable place. It’s one thing sharing my broken open heart with mostly like-minded, supportive friends on FB or my blog, but another thing entirely when the audience is 9 million strangers. But this is the path right? To be authentic at all times.. whoever might be on the receiving end. So, this piece that came pouring out of me today will probably be my next submission. Triggered, raw, hurt, real.

 

‘He Is Not For You, Dear One’

Not for you the callous or the cold. Not for you the one you fed, nurtured, soothed and anointed over and over, but who would not reach out a hand as you shivered and purged, sick to the bone.

Not for you the one who never learned how to BE with people in the thick of the feels, preferring instead to ‘spiritualise’ you, or gaslight you with ‘everything is your own creation’ memes at your tenderest hour.

Not for you the detached, the impersonal, the avoidant. Not for you the one who claimed “I have no choice in anything I do”. Not for you the one who equates love with ‘filling a hole’. Not for you the one who joyfully confessed to thriving under your expressions of appreciation, but could not offer even the scantest of reflections in return. So happy to receive, so reluctant to reciprocate.

Not for you the one who pledged ’truth’ above all else, and in full knowledge left your bed to fly straight into the arms of another. One in, one out. And dearest, definitely, categorically not for you the one who paints vivid pictures of his newest road trip romance, while you sketch out the pain of longing.

He was never for you dear one and you knew it all along – after all he said it so clearly – and dearest, you really should have believed him. But like a neutered cat nawing at fresh stitches, you dug in to the ancient wound, hoping for a different outcome, hoping that by giving so freely of your heart, it might thaw the relational wounds of the other. But this horse has been flogged too long already. Dearest, it’s time to stop hiring bit players to re-wound you in all the familiar ways.

And also not for you is self-recrimination or admonishment. Hold your tender heart close, so close, but be vigilant, all too easy to turn this pain into a cause for martyrdom. You are not a victim of this dear one. You chose it. Choose wisely next time. Not everything that presents itself in the name of love, is.

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{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

Kate M July 27, 2017 at 2:48 am

Stunning, Aly. Stunning. x

Isabelle July 29, 2017 at 4:36 am

Oh the pain.

jenny September 1, 2017 at 11:12 pm

Brilliant piece of writing Aly, thought provokeing.

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