Just call me Indiana Jones.
In The Last Crusade, in his quest for the Holy Grail, Indiana stands against the wall of a cavern, looking across a great abyss. Across this un-jumpable impasse, on the other side, lies the Holy Grail. He stands at the cliff’s edge, dumbfounded by the pit in front of him. How to get to the other side? It’s seemingly impossible. And, as he flips through the pages of his father’s journal, desperately searching for the key to crossing this epic hole, he realizes his worst fear: He must take a leap of faith.
In sobriety, there have been lots of challenges. So many daunting and sometimes frightening tasks have come my way. And many of them, were seemingly impassable. But, with courage, it has been my experience, that facing up to those great, insurmountable tasks, and then coming out on the other side, usually unscathed or with minor cuts and burns, have been the most rewarding victories of my life.
Oddly enough, most of the things that scare the living shit out of me, have little to do with drinking. Only that in the past, I could have faced those fears while drunk, and now, I must face them with all my wits about me. And, failure, should I fail, can’t be blamed on my drunken ass. Sobriety has made me present and accountable, for all my actions and decisions, which, while it appears to be a blessing, can sometimes seem to be a curse. There’s no deflecting. No taking things back, claiming that I wasn’t in my right mind. But, the great thing about it is, in sobriety, I’m actually able to make cognitive, weighted decisions. Nothing has to be an impulsive, thoughtless action.
So, with that, I return to the Lars saga. The saga in which I love him, but, have been living with the fear that most every person in love has: he doesn’t love me back. And, I’ve carried that monkey on my back for awhile. Fear. Fear of letting my ex go. Fear of being hurt again. Fear of having lost precious time and energy holding on to my heart. Fear of being vulnerable and weak. The list goes on ad infinitum.
I’ve prayed. Searched myself. Talked to friends and counselors. Written about it. Stewed on it. Cried over it. This thing, love. A shapeless, formless entity. A four letter word that is sometimes used loosely, without meaning, and sometimes spoken with the crushing force of everything. Seamless and limitless. The eternal quest of the human heart. So, yeah, no big deal, right?
Fuck, man. It’s epic.
I’d been waiting. Holding on to my heart. Looking for that perfect moment to tell Lars. But, fear had tied me up in a straight jacket. There I stood, at my cavernous abyss. On the other side, a lit, open door. Oh, but how to cross this cavernous hole in front of me? I thought of Indiana, and, how upon realizing that he had to trust God to walk him across the bottomless pit in front of him, he muttered a prayer under his breath and, sweat dripping from his brow, took one fearless step forward.
The moment found me. The moment where it suddenly became Lars, or bust. And, I realized, that I could pray to God until the cows came home. I could sit in wait for a sign or a miracle to prove that the timing was right. I knew though, if I were do that, the moment may never come again. In turning my life and will over to God, I put my trust in his plan for me. But, as I’ve heard in many an AA meeting: God may have a plan for you, but, he’s not going to do your dishes.
So, I said my prayers, and, with my heart racing, I took a step into the abyss.
Lars, I love you.
And, the moment the words left my mouth, I felt short of breath. For a fraction of a second, it felt as though my world might implode. But, as my foot came down from its wide step toward that bright, open door, a ledge rose up to meet it. And, like Indiana, I kicked up some sand from behind me to show me where the rest of the ledge led out, and, I walked to that open door. My faith, rewarded.
He loves me too.