How Do You Move Forward When Your Soulmate Walks Away?

Walking Away From Everything by vampire_zombie

Walking Away From Everything by vampire_zombie

I’ve always felt that through every significant life experience, even—especially—through my mistakes and failures, there are countless lessons to be learned and shared. Love, dating and relationship experiences are no different. For what is life about if not for building awe-inspiring connections, for finding endless opportunities to learn more about yourself and develop an appreciation and love for the people who cross your path in life—yourself included?

Yet I’m finding it hard to share my most important love experience and lesson with you all, and that is: How Do You Move Forward When Your Soulmate Walks Away?

Read more about how I feel about soulmates and what it feels like to have to let the one you thought was the ultimate soulmate go here on Singles Warehouse.


Chasing the Shadows of the Past

This county isn’t big enough for all of us. Let’s face it—this state isn’t big enough to hold all of us. Me and my memories of me and you. And me and you. And of me and you.

I didn’t think you would follow me here tonight. A grown-up party at the science center, Liquid Luau, getting lei-ed, drinks, a DJ, a really good cover band, a man on stilts making ridiculous balloon sculptures with a really fun guy who isn’t afraid to let his dreads hang down and dance to the music by my side.

Watching the drunk-crazy couples boogying in front of us with absolutely no inhibitions reminded me of you, never afraid to make a fool of yourself dancing in front of me when we were at home.

What I called your puppet dance always had me in stitches because you moved like a marionette with your stiff hips, attempting to swing your flat ass like a stripper. Always with such a serious look on your face, “This is how the girls on X Avenue taught me,” you would say of the crazy girls of the streets of Hartford that you’d run into on the job.

How was I to know that walking into the rainbow circus of people would cough up memories of that? The KidSpace on the right was where you—Mr. Etiquette—your kids and I spent an obscene amount of time playing with Legos and trails of water, air tubes and plastic balls just 10 months ago. Seems like yesterday and a lifetime ago, all at the same time.

I miss them at the strangest times, those kids. We only had six weeks all together, yet it seemed so much longer with all the cherish-worthy experiences we packed in while they were here. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s going to feel weird when their time to visit here comes around and know that I won’t see them then, and that I probably will never see them again. Or you.

How was I to know that the best option for dinner after the Liquid Lounge tonight was going to be our place, V-Man? One of the few places still open outside of the city was the restaurant where you and I had our first date and numerous anniversary and non-anniversary dinners over the years. We sat in a different section of the restaurant than you and I usually sat in. I ordered my usual though. I found myself asking for no sour cream, since you hated it and always assumed I must too.

After tonight’s he and I got scammed out of $40 at a completely empty club wooing us with the empty promises of reggae rhythms (seriously, it was as if we had walked into a really bad ‘80s wedding reception before anyone from the wedding had arrived), we drove through the city. I passed the familiar fork in the road that I took so many times during those two years I taught out there. Crazy times. Have been thinking about them a lot these days, especially after watching that documentary “Waiting for ‘Superman’.”

And then I saw your old building. I remembered that day when the cell phone rang and you told me to look out the window, and there was your grinning face, waving at me from the work SUV as we passed each other by. I remember the times we’d park in that garage when we’d come to hang out on the weekends. Can’t forget that time you had to stop in the station, when it was completely dark, and I tripped in my heels, trying to keep up with you zooming through, and I fell flat on my face.

Then, tonight we hit the highway. That familiar music filled the car. I know I left us in California and Pennsylvania. Or in Las Vegas and, a few towns over from mine now, in that house that felt like our home for such a long time, until the last time I visited in March, when even “our” cats felt like strangers.

Everywhere I go, there you are. I can’t even go to a grocery store without thinking about the foods you especially liked. I was always grabbing a dessert or Coronas or something as a surprise treat for you. And when we went shopping together, so many, many times, the trips were nothing special. But it was just all those shared moments with you, forever seared in my mind. I almost felt tears spring to my eyes in the middle of Stop & Shop last weekend while shopping with my mom. How dare you still cause me any emotion at all?

How can I build new memories when all of your shadows are haunting me at every turn? I try to write you out of my heart and mind. To sing that painful melody so many times, I get sick of it and the lyrics start to mean something else entirely.

If I really am stuck in this geographical place with no end date in sight, then I am going to need a heart transplant, a brainwash.

"metamorphosis--the dryad" by aselclub

I need to hit that reset button. Someone new deserves to make his own unique memories with me without anyone else overshadowing or overlapping.

It is time to be reborn. My parents named me appropriately. The story of my life is about the power of being reborn—again and again and again.

I deserve to no longer live in the pain, confusion or regret of the past. I want and need to feel all that joy and surprise of the newness of today and tomorrow in all its magical fullness. Ii is time to taste that juicy, sweetness of a fresh start.

No Longer Sitting in Limbo

Even after all these years, it never gets any easier for me to say goodbye. The knowledge that I am causing someone I still care for a great deal of pain brings me great pain as well. When that person who I love believes so deeply that I am his “The One,” I especially flounder in confusion and grief. What if he’s right? What if all these feelings of doubt and needing space are merely my way to not embrace the very thing I am looking for in love? Am I too afraid to accept this unconditional love? Am I in love with him or am I in love with his love for me?

It is in this sanctuary of space apart, which I so desperately need in relationships at times, when my heart speaks more clearly. I am not swept up in the infatuation of physical attraction, or swayed by hypnotic eyes and such potent words full of strong convictions that we are meant to be, that no one will ever love me as much as he does. With distance, I realize that these claims are not true, not for me at least.

Love is more than a collection of romantic words and claims of honorable intentions. Love is a verb, and when I feel loved, I feel safe and secure, I feel trusted and respected. I feel desired and admired. I feel accepted and embraced. I don’t feel so harshly judged, my every move inspected with suspicion and doubt. I don’t feel like I am a possession to be controlled or imprisoned, or as if I am placed on an a pedestal so high that the only room for me to move is that plummet downward.

It’s no secret that I am a people-pleaser, who often gives and gives until I just can’t give anymore. My resources are depleted, and I am spent. I’ve learned how to better say no. How to stand up for myself when I feel I’m being wronged. How to start that lonely walk away when I feel like it’s no longer worth it for me to keep fighting the good fight, when I keep receiving in return so much pain, the poison of anger, and being terribly misunderstood. I know when I deserve more than this. I know when he deserves more than the walls I erect in response to his offensive maneuvers. I know when it’s time for us to stop being in denial, and to move forward from sitting in limbo.

It still causes my chest to feel heavy and my stomach to clench when it’s time to leave. Sometimes I circle back to give things another chance when the promises to change flow like staining red wine. Deep down I know better, yet it can cause me to question myself as to whether I’ve given all I can give, if I have really given everything a chance to bloom. I know better, but I ride the battering waves of resistance to conflict and to causing someone pain.

Part of really being open to and capable of giving love to another so openly and freely begins with the all-important path toward loving one’s self. When you love yourself, you don’t want to be constantly jerked back and forth by drama. You don’t want your past to constantly be flung in your face, feel the punishment of being dragged through the mud again and again. You don’t stand for the smothering simply because the distance only brings out all your partner’s insecurities and fear. When you love yourself, you feel free to be the authentic you, for better or worse. When you are in love with you, you recognize how precious a gift you have if, when, someone else you love can appreciate and love all that you are too.