On The Wings of the Angel

So often is the case over 42 years...another angel has grown wings and slipped the surly bonds of our compassion, leaving the many times shattered heart, in pieces yet again.

Jean de La Fontaine stated that , "Sadness flies away on the wings of time". Some how I fear this time it will not.

We had already discussed the ideals of children, marriage and more. This was the one...the last one as it would seem.

Perfection  was this angels name. But as a friend wrote today on Facebook, "if you are not on the same page, perhaps its time to shut the book."

Well the Angels book has been closed and stored on the growing library of my life.

From the beginning we never truly clicked. I stated far too early what my heart screamed and due to others in her past she chose to believe that honesty was fiction rather than truth.

The fact she learnt I was a writer, turned against me too. 

"Words are easy" I was told. 

If only she knew how hard they are for me to find right now.

My heart stopped in her presence, my world existed when she was near me, my breathe halted unless I knew she was soon to be with me yet again.

Of all the angels, over 43 years, this was truly the one. 

I believe I am done now. 

A solitary life will be easier and less painful over time than to face the difficulties of the past few weeks.

A heart scarred can never be the same again. This time the wound cut deeper than most and the heart has grown cautious.

Perhaps its life, the world or challenges of love that have changed. For me the truth is the truth. It hurts not to be believed. it actually stings to be called a liar when the only words you speak are from the heart.

You can not make people love you. You can not make people believe you and it is pointless asking some one to stay when they have doubt.

"I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had." so spoke the words in Wonder Years.

"Maybe part of loving is learning to let go."

Perhaps my whole life has lead me to this place? I learnt the following poem by Walter De La Mere when I was aged 7 or 8. Mrs Lawrence made me recite the poem at a school reading. Perhaps the words, learnt and programmed into me, recited for weeks before the presentation actually permiated my conscious. Perhaps I have been programmed all these years for nothing more than loss. 

WHY? 

Ever, ever

Stir and shiver

The reeds and rushes

By the river:

Ever, ever,

As if in dream,

The lone moon’s silver

Sleeks the stream.

What old sorrow,

What lost love,

Moon, reeds, rushes,

Dream you of?

(Walter de la Mare)

Did I learn anything from angel who visited me so briefly. Yes I did!! Perhaps the longest piece of Arabic in six years, 

"La ilaha il Allah, Muhammad rasullallah".

She taught me tolerance and she taught me to embrace a religion I had never considered before. One which I will continue down its path long past these difficult days. 

I also learnt that a heart void of love itself can never give love. She thought highly of herself and lowly of me, I was cool with that despite the angst of my friends. I saw the faults that she did too, but I enjoyed the fact she told the truth. In the end I saw it differently. She told the truth about myself by was blinded to that about herself. I feel sorrow for her there, for she could be such an amazing person, had she simply seen the world has faults not just the one screaming love toward her.

Anyway folks, it is done. Time for me to return to the world of reality. Bitter and sore, but needing to move on.

I stated once before that I needed to move past the subject of love. The next posting will be the last on the subject for a long time. It will be the obituary to love. Never fear it is nothing but a writers words. But it is the final say on a subject that my heart needs to clear before life returns to some semblance of normality. If normal can be attained with a gaping whole in ones heart that is !!