What happens to us when our biggest resentment falls away?
Who do we become when the thing that has held us captive, held our thoughts at gun point for the longest time, takes a step back and walks out of the room?
I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel or what I’m becoming. I’m not even sure what my ex’s apology means. I’m not sure that it means anything. And, after all this time, holding on, cradling my hurt and pain like a sick child, to just let it go seems wrong. It seems like wasted energy. Like, after waiting for this one thing, it isn’t really what I wanted or needed.
After learning so much about myself and sobriety in recovery, I thought that I understood expectation. I thought that I understood that nothing turns out exactly as I planned. But, this thing, this resentment, the one that I thought I’d be forced to hold onto for so, so much longer than I’d actually have to, I thought I knew how I’d feel when I could let it go. I thought that the freedom would be inexpressible, the joy and relief, overwhelming. But, instead, it feels blank.
I feel like a balloon. If you were to pop me with a needle, I’d just deflate. Collapse, empty and limp on the floor.
This resentment, this captivity, I’ve been in it so long that, I just don’t know what or who to be without it. And, I can go to as many meetings as time will allow, I can call my sponsor, my friends, my boyfriend, but, there’s nothing that will fill that void.
Today, there isn’t any amount of consolation that will do. Maybe that’s because I don’t need consoling. I’m not sure what I need. In one moment it seems like tears, but, they don’t come. Maybe anger, but, I just sit calmly on the couch, unmoving and unmoved. Joy? No. There isn’t joy here, not yet anyway.
Maybe this is the loss part. The part where I come to terms with not only letting go of my ex, but, also, letting go of that pain that I’ve clung to for so long. Letting go of the thing that’s made my misery tangible and acceptable. Letting go of the excuse for all the behavior that dragged me into the depths of myself. The pain that had become so second nature that being alleviated of it seems, well, unnatural.
Today, I’m blank. Unmoved. Unmoving. Sitting in the dark, as the last of the ashes from the hottest fire that’s ever burned blow out into the wind. And, I can think of no other course than to sit here, in the cold, and see what I’m made of, without it.