There are nights when it seems like my soul aches. Like it's nagging me, trying to make me realize something, but I'm just not understanding. There seems to be a disconnect between who I am, what I'm feeling and where I am supposed to be in this world.
I woke up one day and started a blog. I don't know what possessed me to do it. I was just sitting there one day, feeling sad and lonely. After years of frustration from being forced to remain silent, I just knew I was going to burst if I couldn't find a way to let it all out. A friend who blogs offered to post things for me. She said I could write and she would post them to help hide who I am, and in that moment, Our Before and After was born. It started with a different title, but changed after just one post. I wrote Our Before and After and knew that that was really what this was. A log, a journal of the journey I am on. The fracture in my life, jaggedly edged, creating a chasm between who we were and who we are now.
I thought that it was the magic fix that I needed. A secret place to put my thoughts. And as I wrote, people reached out. They told me of their troubles, they said they felt the way I do. And I realized what this was becoming. A place to put my feelings so that others would know they are not alone. There are plenty of places to go if you need advice or tips to cope, but where do you go to feel normal?
But lately, as I have poured my buried feelings and most private hurts on to a page that I can conveniently turn off and forget about whenever I need to, I have had a nagging feeling. My soul aches. It's deeper than a heartache. It's more faint than the a general hurt. It whispers and is barely there. It's nagging me and I don't know why.
This blog was supposed to fix things. I suppose that was a ridiculous expectation to have. Though it lessens the hurt at times, and decreases the anger, simply typing words doesn't change that when my screen goes dark and I am left to the nighttime and the glow of my TV at 3am, my life is still what it is, even if for a moment I was able to pretend that my words were fixing something. Come morning, he will still not be speaking to me, I will still have to face my job, and our life is still split into this before and after, with it's jagged edges to remind us of the stark differences and the loss we have to face someday. Because, like it or not, the loss of what we were WILL have to be faced. And I'm not ready to grieve the loss of who I was on the other side.
But maybe that's why my soul is aching. Maybe it's time to let go of that girl. Maybe it's time to face the fracture and see it for what it is... A reality that can't be ignored into oblivion, but can be moved on from... And maybe my soul aches, in the dark, at 3am because my glowing computer screen can't fix something that I am unwilling to admit is still there.