[Jul 2013] What Am I Grieving for?

I had a horrible day. Another one. It is evening, and I am sitting on the bank of the river next to my favorite little promenade where I used to run. It is getting cold, I have put on my pullover. Tepid breeze is stroking my bare legs and my face. The river is flowing silently in front of me, almost without waves, but with a strong current. The sun has already set, but it isn’t dark yet. On the other side of the river, I can see an unknown, secret little world, with trees on the shore, behind them big factory buildings with lights. I see an anchored track-boat on the river, with flickering light from their cabin. I wonder how it would be to live on a boat like this, spending the nights alone on the river, on no-man’s land, entirely abandoned, near unknown shores, reading books by a candle. To me, it is tempting now. I desire for that loneliness, for that peace.

I know very well that running away from my problems won’t help because they will catch me up sooner or later. I know that starting a new life in a new place, starting a new relationship with another girl doesn’t solve anything if I am doing it to run away from something I rather face. But still, environmental change can also be useful in certain circumstances. I have always seen this as a serious contradiction. But there might be a difference between running away from problems or changing something to suspend my problems for a while or see them from a different perspective. The former is a bad idea, the latter can be a wise and healing thing to do. When I was driving here through the city, and I felt the fresh air coming to my face through the windows, I felt different already compared to how I had felt all day. I stepped out of the car, took a little walk, and felt the same relief as in the mountains a few months ago. I felt the healing power of nature.

I am mourning, again. For two people I think. For my relationship with my girlfriend, and for my father again. First, my nerves warned me, then my body, finally I fell down into that dark hole again. I am living my days through torture very often, with anxiety and desperation. Everyday duties cause unbearable problems again, like working or settling simple things. I am disturbed by people and by everything. I feel empty. I am fighting a losing battle against nothing. Slowly I start to understand what is going on with me. I am in the middle of an unfinished grief. I wanted to spare it, I wanted to bypass it, I wanted to pretend as if I was over it, but I wasn’t. I am not over it! It is not finished. I know it now. It doesn’t want to move on. I can’t move on. I can’t cry. I can’t cry for days or weeks. The last time I could cry was when I met my girlfriend the last time to talk things through. Lots of pain came up then. The end of our relationship, the pain of losing my father, all the sufferings of the last year, feeling sorry for myself. Yes, I was sorry for myself and cried about the things I had to go through. I was sorry for a reason. I want to be sorry for myself now. I want to cry, to sob, about how difficult everything was, how difficult everything still is. I want to cry about my unbearable life, about having to be fighting bitterly for every single step, every day, every minute. I want to cry for myself, I want to cry for my father, and I want to cry for my girlfriend, but I can’t. My tears just don’t come. I am stuck somewhere halfway through relief and happiness. And meanwhile, I feel like there is nobody who can understand and support me. I am all alone, and can’t even express my pain and sorrow. Because I have to work every day, trying to look happy, even in front of my friends. I can’t be honest with my family either because with honesty all I get is another burden when my mother starts worrying. Then I can comfort her all day every day. My best friend, Alex is the only one I can lean on a bit, but he is far away, working abroad. We talk an hour or two every week, but he only listens to me half-heartedly most of the time. He doesn’t feel his current importance in my life. I feel sorry for myself, without any guilt or remorse. I deserve sorry and love, and it feels good to be sorry for myself. This is new. It would feel even better to cry for myself, but I still can’t.

I had enough of the mosquitos by the river, so I headed back to my car. I drove around the whole district where I used to live in college as an undergraduate. Now I am sitting in my car in front of a university building, next to the river again, but much higher up. I am tired, I feel like I am going to have a good sleep tonight. I wanted to stop somewhere before going home, to write some more about my feelings. I feel sorrow, a deep and healthy sadness. My face is determined and calm, my eyes and my lips bend downwards. I am sad because of my father. I miss him so much. I lost the man who probably loved me more than anyone. Without conditions. Poor daddy! How much he had fought, still he lost in the end. He believed so much in his healing. And my poor little girlfriend. Where is she now? How is she feeling? I don’t think about her much. It is so strange that no matter how much it hurts losing her, no matter how sad I am, I don’t feel anymore that I’ve made a mistake by breaking up. I don’t want to undo it anymore. Then why am I feeling so bad and so sad? What did she mean to me? What did I lose with her? What was she in my life? Whatever she has meant to me, I have spent two years of my life with her, just as she has. What do these two years mean to me? She was young, innocent, and naive. She was a little flower that needed love and care to grow. I wanted this flower to be mine. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to protect her and teach her, to grow. I wanted to teach her all the things she didn’t know yet. I loved and desired her so much. Everything happened the way I wanted to ahppen. I taught her many things. I stayed with her even in the storms created by her parents. She looked up to me, she admired me, she adored me, and she fell in love with me. I received unconditional love from her, like probably never before. It was as if I had been a child again, and I had got love without any questions or conditions, without doing anything, without being worthy of it. Then this unconditional love turned into a lost little girl’s admiration of her father. To a strong, fearless father who protects her from all the dangers of this dark and evil world. Soon I started to feel this as a responsibility, a task, then a burden. I didn’t enjoy her love so much any more. Her dependence, her love-hunger, her helplessness was frightening to me. I felt like I had to take care of her. It was my duty. What did I lose with her leaving? Do I feel guilty? Not so much now. Am I desperate because of being alone? I don’t think so. But why am I feeling so down again? What’s bothering me deep down in my heart? Losing my father again? Is this the same? I didn’t leave him, I didn’t abandon him, I didn’t turn away from him. He left us here, or rather he was taken away from us with force. The unconditional love left with him, just like with her. Am I craving for this unconditional love so much? Do I need it so much? I don’t think so. I am achievement-oriented in my life, even in my private life. I don’t expect unconditional love from anyone. I only expect to appreciate the love and care I give. I only want understanding and respect. My father didn’t understand me, but he respected and loved me. We were far away in many ways so he couldn’t understand me. My girlfriend, she understood me. She understood me very well, like nobody before. She was listening to me very carefully. And appreciated me very much. She wanted to know everything about me. This was very unique and important to me. But this is all gone with her. Am I grieving for this? I don’t know. Admiration is not what I really want. What is it then? What is that I really want? What is that I am really missing? What is that hurts so much?

She was young, innocent, and naive. She was a little flower that needed love and care to grow. I wanted this flower to be mine. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to protect her and teach her, to let her grow. I wanted to teach her all the things she didn’t know or hasn’t seen yet. I loved and desired her so much. Everything happened the way I wanted them to happen. I taught her many things. I stayed with her even in the storms created by her parents. She looked up to me, she admired me, she adored me, and she fell in love with me. I received unconditional love from her, like probably never before. It was as if I had been a little child again, and I had received love without any questions or conditions, without doing anything, without being worthy of it. Then this unconditional love turned into a lost little girl’s admiration of her father. To a strong, fearless father who protects her from all the dangers of this dark and evil world. Soon I started to feel this as a responsibility, a task, a burden. I didn’t enjoy her love so much anymore. Her dependence, her love-hunger, her helplessness was frightening to me. I felt like I had to take care of her. It was my duty. She depended on me.

What did I lose with her leaving? Do I feel guilty? Not so much now. Am I desperate because of being alone? I don’t think so. But why am I feeling so down again? What’s bothering me deep down in my heart? Losing my father again? Is this the same? I didn’t leave my father, I didn’t abandon him, I didn’t turn away from him. He left us here, or rather he was taken away from us with force. The unconditional love left with him, just like with her. Am I craving for this unconditional love so much? Do I need it so much? I don’t think so. I am achievement-oriented in my life, even in my private life. I don’t expect unconditional love from anyone. I don’t believe in unconditional love. I only expect to appreciate the love and care I give. I only want understanding and respect. My father didn’t understand me, but he respected and loved me. We were far away in many ways so he couldn’t understand me. My girlfriend, she understood me. She understood me very well, like nobody before. She was listening to me very carefully. And appreciated me very much. She wanted to know everything about me. This was very unique and important to me. But this is all gone with her. Am I grieving for this? I don’t know. Admiration is not what I really want. What is it then? What is that I really want? What is that I am really missing? What is that hurts so much?

 

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