I just woke myself up with the sounds of my own sobbing. For real. It took me a while to realize what I was hearing, and then even longer to pull myself enough out of sleep to try and stop the sobbing, which had become kind of keening and wailing in between bouts of this weird, high pitched hyperventilating. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I hate my brain. When I’m awake I can keep myself either distracted, or angry, or panicked enough that I don’t have to deal with the absolute and devastating loss that lurks beneath the panic. So apparently my brain decided it needed to torture me while I sleep.
I lost my soul mate.
In my dream, I was with my daughter, and she had been trying to tell me something but I had been distracted. So she said, “Fine, I’ll just tell Daddy when he gets home”, and then I followed her down the hall saying “Ha, that’s what you think, he isn’t COMING home!” in a kind of childish, “I showed YOU” kind of way.
Then the dream cuts to us standing by the door, waiting, waiting to see if this time he’s going to walk through the door, like he always did. Home from work, happy to see us, and I get to hug him and hear about his day and feel SO lucky to be the one he comes home and hugs. And in the dream, he DOES walk in the door – wearing a silly straw hat for some reason…and I’m SO happy to see him and I run to hug him and he just…disintegrates. And IN the dream, I lose it…I start sobbing, crumbling, dropping whatever was in my hand and just…folding up and curling toward the floor in slow motion…right there…in the foyer.
At some point, I start hearing this sobbing, wheezing, high pitched hyper ventilating sound…and that is how I woke up. Half asleep and still dreaming that I am crumbled on the floor, my dream daughter trying to console me but I’m inconsolable. In the real world, I’m struggling to wake up, laying in my bed, earplugs in, but hearing my keening from the inside…loud enough to be a siren, leading me toward consciousness.
But I can’t completely wake up…it stays with me for a while…the deep, soul crushing sorrow and loss. Just loss…stronger than any feelings of loss I’ve ever felt. I didn’t feel it when my brother died, I didn’t feel it when other people close to me died…I didn’t even feel it like this when my dog (my other soul mate) died – and THAT was some bone crushing loss.
I can’t wake up enough to get control of the sobbing or my breathing. I can’t get enough air through the tears and it feels like I’m drowning.
If He Was My Soulmate, What Happens To My Soul When He Leaves?
When I’m awake, I can control the narrative. I can tell myself that the good parts, the connection and the “split apart”, soulmate stuff, was a lie. That it was NEVER true to begin with. If it had been…then this wouldn’t have happened, right? If the together forever stuff had been true, then we would BE together forever! So it must not have been true.
It must have been a lie. I must not have really loved him like that, and he must never have loved me. We never loved each other in that way that meant life was WORTH it. He must not have been the great guy I thought he was. All of those times we laughed and talked and played and loved and fought and made up…those were all just an elaborate ruse. He must NOT have been my perfect match, my split apart, my one and only. All of that must have just been an illusion.
This Loss Is TOO Much Loss…I’m Just Not Strong Enough
Because if it was true…I might not live through the loss of that. If it had been true, I would do anything, wouldn’t I? Be OK with anything – just to keep him? Put myself through anything, give him whatever he needs…just so we can stay together, because we are MEANT to be together. Because you can’t just walk away from your soul…can you?
Soulmates don’t just leave because they want to have sex with other people and you aren’t OK with that. You don’t just LET them leave, just because they want to have sex with other people. I mean, so what? Right? What’s a little sex with other people – if he’s my soulmate, it shouldn’t bother me…right???
My sternum hurts. I feel like my chest has been split open – literally. It actually, physically, hurts. My legs won’t hold me up, and the sobbing is just…there. Just behind me, just over my left shoulder… lurking in the shadows… waiting to take over again.
My throat hurts and I can’t stop coughing. The sort of wailing and keening and sobbing has left my throat raw.
Over the 22 years that we were together, I would go through phases, and I used to have dreams in which I lost him. But…
Then I would wake up, and go make him hug me. He would tell me that everything was OK, and I didn’t have to worry. That I was awake now, and he’d never leave.
I Am The Fool
I feel weak, and like a fool. I feel like the only way to be strong is to be angry. The only way to not feel the fool, to not PLAY the fool…is to be strong, and angry, and move on as if nothing ever happened. I keep trying to convince myself that I never gave my heart away in the first place. It was all just a clever trick of light and shadow.
Except, I guess I did, didn’t I? Against all odds, after a childhood with a family in which love and kindness and connection were anathema, having built walls SO thick and so high that by my late 20’s I was sure and really OK with the fact that I would always be alone…despite all of that, I actually DID find love, and find my soul mate, and slowly, carefully, over time…give my heart away.
And then he left. I lost him…and right now, it feels like I lost my soul. I lost the closest connection I’ve ever had. I lost that feeling when you wake up from a nightmare and the person who helps you feel safe in the world is THERE, ready to put their arms around you and let you know that you are not alone, you have each other, and everything is going to be OK because it was just a dream and you’re awake now.
I’m awake now.