I Had No Idea

I had no idea...

That when I stood outside that salon, calling you over and over again desperate to figure out what just what had happened and to patch it back up with my kit...

The one I had built in haste long ago, the one made of half truths and bandages and sweet words of salve that I knew just how to apply in the way that they had always soothed your insecurities....

of what was to come after that.

I had no idea in that moment what was being ripped away from me, no idea of what I had lost, no idea how my life would go on without the crushing weight of your broken soul to carry.

I had no idea what went wrong ... I knew it was something I had said. It always was. Or the way I said it, of course. You had read into it that I was hesitant about a life with you. For once you were right.

I had no idea how far away you had gotten. I knew you moved to another state, but I couldn't see the divide that had happened in front of me. So I tried to keep driving up the hill that you created- all piled high out of self preservation tactics and the worst of you. I had a well worn road on that hill. This time there was no horizon in sight.

I had no idea how hard it would be to accept the end of you. To believe in a time and place that I had not allowed myself to look at, to expect more from life than what was left after pleasing you. To ask myself the hard questions about how this ever happened in the first place, who I was, what I wanted and how to get away.

I had no earthly way to conceive of both how easy and hard you would be to get over. Of all that I would have to appreciate ... simple things like having time to myself and not having to account for every action I took, not holding my breath when a bad mood would befall you and leave our house in shadows. Ones that were shaped like the independent person I used to be.

I had no idea how hard it would be to get sleep to return - to just lay down and let go. I had no idea how tight of a grip your memory still had around my neck. I chased the beautiful sleep back with my charms instead of wasting them anymore on you.

I had no idea what I lost that day. If I had known I would have laid it down long before. I had two hands full of my past and none left to welcome my future.

I had no idea what was to be gained. Returning to myself, I found more than I remembered and strength I didn't know I had left behind. I had been waiting for me all along.

I had no clue whatsoever that someone else's life was patiently waiting to come face to face with mine. I didn't know that their heartache and loss, their disillusion and pain, their confusion and rebuilding - was all being done to get them ready for who I was going to be for them and what they needed to be for me.

I had no idea that two shattered pieces of glass could be made into a beautiful diamond and that I would live in a place of both windows and mirrors, able to see out to what was and back to what had been.

I had no idea how great it would be when you came running to me for escape- wanting to go back to where things were, feeling unloved and sad, alone with your wife and child and your hollow heart. How wonderful the rush of vindication after so many years to tell you what you needed to hear for a long time, to remind you that your life was a result of your decisions and expressions of how you felt about yourself. That the reflection you saw was one you had made. That I wanted no part of what you were suggesting. That your wife undoubtedly deserved better.

I had no idea you would have the nerve to call again. Especially after she found you out. You wanted closure. You wanted to say nice things. You wanted me to think kindly upon my memories with you. I wanted to get off the phone, I had better things to do.

I had no idea how well I would sleep after that. I had no idea how much I would appreciate my life after I saw it through your eyes. I had no idea how important you would be to my life. I had no idea that the day I stood there frantically trying to fix you and you shut me out was the day my life truly began.