Beautiful LIE

I lived this Beautiful lie...

Emotions swirling on this day April 18th.

My past haunting me. 

My reflection changed I don’t recognize that person who stares back at me.

My future altered.

My life as I knew it gone.

I have come so far.

Worked so hard but yet have so much more work to do.

Healing is a process. 

It isn’t easy and it isn’t fun. 

The lord is right there with me. He isn’t forcing me to deal with all my wounds all at once, he isn’t saying your fine, be fine, move on, he is letting it happen one small shattered piece at a time.

I have found the lord to be faithful and true. He has never left me.

He hasn’t ran when it got tough or when I screamed and cursed his name. 

 His love unconditional and eternal. 

I loved my life. 

I was content. I wanted for nothing more than that beautiful lie I was living. 

I thought we were happy.

I loved my husband. 

I loved him more than I loved myself. 

You can't force someone to love you.

That’s if he really ever did. 

 He choose to walk away.

Love stays. 

Love doesn’t lie.

It doesn’t cheat.

It doesn’t steal.

Love doesn’t walk away, only people do. 

I share this today because today would have been our 22 anniversary and if I am honest I struggle with the pain of abandonment. 

I struggle with all the truths of the secret life I knew little to nothing about. 

 Last night the nightmare kept me awake I awoke in a panic his voice calling my name.  

 That voice lingered until it seemed so real that it startled me and the unwanted tears surfaced. 

There in the darkness only lit by the alarm I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed.  

 I wandered if he thought of me. 

I wandered if he ever regretted what he had done.

What he had done to shattered this heart. 

The torment of my soul?

The loneliness of his actions.

 I wept and prayed hard knowing that there are other women feeling this anguish just as much or even more than I am. 

My brain fights with my heart more than I care for it too. I'm honestly not sure which won early this morning.

I knew the tears had to come out.

They seem to do that a lot, find a way out at the most unexpecting times. I try and hold them back until my head and my jaw hurt. 

The lord is faithful and true. He has never left me.

He hasn’t ran when it got tough or when I screamed and cursed his name. 

He has stayed right by my side.  

I whispered in the darkness. Lord please stop with the dreams, make them go away. Love, please take that away too. The man I loved died, he doesn’t exist he is never coming back, please take it all away. A prayer I have prayed many times before. I prayed to keep moving forward, for continued healing and hope. To help all the other hearts that feel this same way. 

 As I climbed in the shower the tears flowing down my face for the loss of what would have been a day that was celebrated, now is just a day. A day that I don’t want to face. Realizing this heart of mine is still shattered, like a bottle of glitter spilled everywhere, always pieces left behind for what seems forever. I have had to admit that no matter how much work I do alone, I can't heal my broken heart on my own. 

I have tried to fool myself into thinking I was better but councling this week was rough. No fake smile on my face, no amount of fake it till you make it, no holding it together or being strong, can make this pain disappear. I can’t do it alone.

It has become less then a year ago when I was a nothing in my marriage. The memories show up like stabbing pain. Pain that actually sucks the air from you, pain that squeezes your heart and you wonder if it will finally stop beating. I have prayed to be free from this, the pain that keeps me longing for that love story that beautiful lie, I created in my head. The love story that’s dead. Killed by the one person I gave my everything too. No attention, no approvals, no new hair cut or color. NO not even time can change this. I have a whole other post on that dreaded time word. 

The funny thing is people say that time can heal all wounds...I not sure that’s true. Some wounds can never be healed.  I have felt impatient with myself, wishing this process along, judging how I handle even the smallest things. I find I don’t trust myself. 

That still small voice that said when asked in the quite moments between tears this morning,  you can do it a bit longer! 

WHAT? 

NO!

STOP!

You want me to be shattered? You want me to be shattered a bit longer?

 I know there will be beauty out of my shattered piece. I can’t see it or feel it at this moment. 

There is a purpose. 

It makes no sense. 

I don’t even want to do it. 

I fight it daily, nobody understands it. 

It’s overwhelming. 

It’s debilitating.

Its agonizing. 

I am sure people think I just want to stay in this pain forever. 

That I don’t and choose not to heal. 

I put in the work everyday even when it scares the hell out of me. 

If it were not for all my shattered pieces,

 I would not be reaching out to others in this same trial of life. 

 He sometimes asks us to trust his timing. I have faith sometimes it falters but it’s there, that I won’t be shattered forever. He continues to push me beyond what I want to do. I know he won’t leave me. He will stay right by my side and that gives me a small sense of relief. I AM NOT ALONE.  He is there,  he asks for me to stay shattered for a bit longer. I know it will be his way, in his time no matter how hard that is for me to deal with and accept.

The stubborn in me wants to throw a fit, she wants to give up, she wants to stop doing the work because it feels so painful it feels unfair. It feels cruel, it is utterly heart shattering at times, especially today.

I miss that person who promised me everything and then abandoned me when I needed someone the most. He left me in shattered pieces. That bottle of glitter tossed aside and spread all over the floor. 

I know this won’t be the last day of tears, that as I move forward in this journey that nobody really quite understands.

There is this saying that has been repeated to me over and over, more times then I can actually keep track of, the one my bishop repeats to me every time I talk to him. BETTER DAYS ARE TO COME!