Grief

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Pride took a major blow this morning. As a result, this is what happened.

It's 4:20 am. I am spending the night at a ladies house who I had strong feelings for. My alarm is doing what I programmed it to do roughly six hours before, it is a nuisance to my ears. I am only dreading something so minuscule compared to what I am about to discover in ten minutes. I hear a phone make a beep, instantly knowing it is not my phone.

I must first explain a brief background update before I make any attempt to make excuses for what I was about to do. I have been seeing this woman for a few months now. Needless to say, everything was bliss with this relationship. That is up until a few weeks ago. I could not pinpoint her obvious action as to why she was distancing herself from me. A couple excuses for her manifested in my mind over her recent actions, but none were enough to suffice a comfort level for me. Because of my suspicions of all this, I had been secretly praying for our relationship. I wanted nothing more than the truth, or if it was even right in His eyes. It doesn't matter how great everything has been running with my situation. I find it most difficult to pray when the blessings of life are firing on all cylinders. Little did I know, the truth was raging with hell towards me in less than six hours from then.
Curiosity made me it's slave. I broke the trust and grabbed her phone to read that text she just received as I was getting ready for work. It is a digital conversation she was having with this person that consisted of arranging plans to see each other. Anxiety is building up as if a levee, holding my rational thoughts together, were starting to break. Upon further reading, I discover (to put it nicely) explicit details of their "feelings" for each other. Old feelings and memories are coming back to build it's blight on me once again. In a state of confusion and shock, I could not figure out what to do. Once again, I couldn't contain the curiosity. I needed to find out. I wake her up from her sleep, show her the conversation that just shattered me. With a trembling hand holding the phone to her face, I ask what this is about. What she said just confirmed these last few weeks of the gap she had been creating between us. It is her ex and she says she still have feelings for him.

Off to work I go with a concerned feeling of distraught. I honestly don't even remember the drive to work, but only remember staring into oblivion when I was at work for only the few hours I was there. It was now 8 am, at my first break I made a feeble attempt to eat my breakfast, only now am I craving just a cigarette. I walk outside to my car with a freshly lit cigarette. Another shocker hits me at max velocity as if it had nothing to resist. I notice key marks all down the side of my car, on the roof, on the hood, and on the trunk. Along with the word "dead" loosely written near the gas tank. Some marks so deep, they went clear passed the primer and straight into the body.

It was a shocker, forcefully impaled onto another shocker. I have never in my life felt so much shock that just about every fear I had quickly vanished. Surprisingly, I kept it together so I could communicate what needed to be known.

A conversation with a couple police officers later, it was easy to figure out that whoever did this, will have no worry of legal repercussions. It was then that the hurt was being replaced with anger. It is now off to my sister-in-law's house because I could not figure out where else to go.

A few conversations go by with my sister-in-law about what happened on that day. It was such short time before I was bursting at the seams. It was around 5 hours I spent on her back porch, smoking so many cigarettes as if it were my lungs that did this to me. It wasn't just 5 hours of smoking, it was 5 hours of affliction and self destruction I was willing to sacrifice for the demolition of these individuals who did this to me. I wanted nothing more than my hands literally covered with their blood. The scale of my destruction for their destruction, were outweighing everything positive I have been building for myself this past decade. If you could begin to imagine some brutal treatments, I bet it didn't slip my mind. I was beginning to black out in my own world. Yet praying the hate away like trying to find a pinhole of light peaking through with a slim grasp of hope in my darkened room. Wanting nothing more than these demons to be pulled from me. It was not working for my righteous intentions. There were no answers to my prayers of begging and pleading. Being tempted to drown my grief, I knew alcohol would surely amplify these feelings. I somehow resisted. At times, I find comfort in music, but that too, was doing no good. Wanting to forgive them, that wish was fading. I now wanted to break this person whom I didn't know, yet he had so much anger for me, that he felt it necessary to take it out on my car. I wanted to look this person in the eyes as I was squeezing the life from his neck. Envisioning every possible way to maim this person without repercussions was impossible. At this point, it didn't matter. I was consumed with revenge and feeding off these new demons that did nothing but make me feel satisfied with the thought of my newly acquired hate for someone I didn't know. There was no hope.

Once again, I tried a prayer. Not sure if this prayer worked or not, but I was desperate enough and got the idea to try a Google search that I never thought I would attempt. I typed in,"how to forgive someone." As crazy as that sounds, I browsed through a few articles until I stumbled onto some Christian site I never heard of. As I was reading, there were overwhelming feelings of something positive. Honest to God, I don't remember much of what I was reading, but was finally being given a shot of hope. That hope would eventually morph into forgiveness. It was then, I was finally being given a taste of my freedom out of this inferno. Did it taste good? Not necessarily, but I was spiritually dehydrated.

It was then (and on the drive home), that the desire to write was creeping up on me once again. It was then and is still not easy to let this go. But the fact that I let myself get defeated, just made me feel victorious. That I was finally able to drop my pride and pick up what was left of me. It only gets easier as times goes by. The feeling of revenge flaunts back towards me in cumulative increments of time, but I now have what I need to resist it. I am free. No longer can those thoughts have anymore control over me. After all, it is only a vehicle that can be repaired... and I am a simple person that can heal.

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