Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Love in the Third Degree.
Iâ€™ve hardly slept at all in the past week, and only then with some assistance. Itâ€™s fits and starts and then I wake and for a split second, all is well and then I remember whatâ€™s happened and the big hole that burns in my heart chakra right now.
Last night, I took half a sleeping pill and slept in Shannonâ€™s bed. It knocked me out for a good four or five hours, where everything was numbed a bit. Before I took it, Iâ€™d sent out some questions into the Universe, things I needed answers to.
I woke in the darkness of early morning, the effects of the pill having worn off, and he was there close by, his energy all around me. He was comforting me.
I wonâ€™t say Iâ€™m at peace today, but there were things shown to me that do help a bit.
He showed me timelines, past relationships, all the things heâ€™d wanted. He showed me what hadnâ€™t worked with others and why not. He showed me what had worked between us but the timing had been all wrong then and external forces interfered. It had become a sense of â€œWhat else can possibly go wrong now?â€ of roadblocks. He showed me the hope heâ€™d had, the sorrow and the conflict at not being able to live up to what he wanted to give me. He showed me what heâ€™d wanted more than anything but heâ€™d been too full of fear to act on it then, fear that something would change and everything would be lost, either heâ€™d change or Iâ€™d change and everything would be ruined and Iâ€™d be hurt.
He reminded me of all the things heâ€™d said to me on the physical plane and in our energetic connections. He reminded of all the things heâ€™s shown me.
He showed me that last letter I wrote him, when Iâ€™d had something to say recently that I really couldnâ€™t say any other way but in writing. Iâ€™d wanted to tell him the impact heâ€™d had on me, on my life, and how transformational our relationship had been. I knew he was in a place of turmoil, so Iâ€™d talked about how Iâ€™d finally reached a place where I felt content and happy and blessed him that he would soon be happy again. The letter had seemed a release to him, and heâ€™d thought I was moving on, content to live my life without him in it.
Of all the relationships in my life, this one was truly the rarestâ€”one where two people liked and respected each other for who they were and were content to allow each other to be as they were without forcing them into a mold or trying to remake them in their own image. People often talk about loving someone just the way they are and unconditional love, but for the most part, itâ€™s just talk.