A quote from Sándor Márai

"It takes a lot of bravery to allow yourself to be loved without reserve. A bravery that is almost heroism. Most people can’t either give or receive love because they are cowardly and proud, because they are afraid of failing. They are afraid to offer themselves to another person, and even more afraid to surrender, because they’re scared their secret will be revealed… the sad secret of all human beings: that they need a lot of tenderness and can’t live without love."

An open wound

Allegations of violence against me are delaying my healing process and probably my ex's too.

I wish there would be a way to reach an agreement.

Her truth is her impression. I believe it was a case of altered perception, similar to a certain illusion she lived those days.  Cannabis effects? Steroids? Both? Most likely so.

Considering the emotional charge of the alleged incident(s) and for the sake of both my ex and I, we ought to acknowledge and accept it is still an open wound, and postpone any attempts to deal with it until we both heal.

I need time to heal.

My ex needs time to heal.

There is no point of arguing about this issue for the time being.

Nevertheless, this doesn't preclude that I acknowledge and accept the breakup.  It is a fact after all, and actions speak louder than words. I came to this point more than a month ago. My rational brain was there long before that, but at a time I was an emotional wreck.

It's ok to acknowledge you're hurt

Rushing through a post breakup recovery is no good.

Take your time.  Think.  Look around.

I'm not chasing the first woman who would grant me access to her body, although it would be hard to say no to that.  But, seriously, I need to heal, as rationally as I can.   I need to heal.

But first I have to acknowledge my own feelings.  Almost 16 years... and it wasn't just the time together but the intensity, a whole array of experiences we shared together.  Sex was always extraordinary, always.  And there was always affection, intimacy, complicity, sense of humor, shared reflections, thoughts, intuitions.  But all that remains in the past, JB is part of history.

Now, now... I don't know.

Altered perception (illusions, delusions) triggered by cannabis and/or steroids?  It is possible.  The rest I don't know, I shouldn't even be spending time thinking of my ex.  My ex, ex, ex....  she's gone. She's not my problem, she's not my concern, damn it!

There is no anger in me.  I wish there was.

I wish I were angry at her.  It would make things much easier.  But I'm not, I tried but I couldn't.

I decided to end all contact with her, more than a month ago and there were a few unforced errors on my end.  But wtf... human beings make mistakes.  We're only human, even if it sounds like an overused cliche.

Maybe I let them get too close to me

Es posible.

Siempre he guardado cosas que son mi mundo, mi propia esencia, mis señas de identidad.

Pero en el amor mi entrega siempre ha sido total.  Soy así, yo soy auténtico en la medida que me expreso con total intensidad y siempre es recíproco.

Yes, maybe I let women get too close to me.  Sure I do.  I can't help it, that's the way I am.
But there has to be a better way, a balance between authenticity and emotional safety.

Walking on quicksand

When you're walking on quicksand, every step you take will drive you down.

Of course, I am the one who has to be grounded so I can stand on firm ground.

I am standing on firm ground.  This is it.

Not walking on quicksand anymore.

Yes and no.

Not walking on quicksand but the feeling is still there.
Denying that feeling is even worse.

I abhor violence

I abhor violence.

I   ABHOR violence.

I have seen domestic violence at home as a child and very often I was subjected to that. My father would react and overreact in a violent way quite often.

Physical punishment was inflicted to children on a daily basis by my mother and sometimes by my father. Those times I cannot forget since he would punch me with an open fist.  He would punch a preschooler with an open fist.  I hated my father and I made a promise to myself of NEVER being like him.  It took me years to see him as a man who had no emotional intelligence, a man who would act a certain way because he couldn't do any better. And, he was my father, an ontological reality.

Allegations of violence or hints of violence by my ex in the social media felt like being slapped in the face in front of a crowd. 

There were other issues but  I'm over those.

Hypothetical thinking vs wishful thinking

Hypothetical thinking sounds like a vast array of possibilities for thought.

On the other hand, wishful thinking is what it is, just envision things the way they could have happened (the way you'd like they happened).  And this can only lead to sorrow, anguish, depression, anxiety...

Face reality.
- Look/move forward
- As you move forward, don't deny your own emotions, mixed feelings

Carrying an ex on your mind
Carrying an ex on your heart
a heavy burden it is
like
     a
        knife
               piercing
                           through
                                       my chest
like a direct blow
                           to the liver

you stumble
                   move sideways
                   and then a sudden jab
                                     to your face
and you collapse
like a rag doll
                      and you try to get up
                             only to make it worse
stay down!
                 you hear that voice shouting
but you stand up
                  and a direct cross to the stomach
                                                   drives you down
and you stay down
                     crying
                     feeling like you've lost everything
                                          feeling like you've been cut off
and then, slowly
               lick your wounds,
                               vulnerable as hell
                                                 lick your wounds
                                as soon as you can
there's a long way to go
                       before you even begin to grow
                       before you even begin to learn
you hope you'll find strength
remembering the good things
but sometimes
                       they hurt you even more
but sometimes
                        they hurt you as much
                                                   as the sudden breakup
they hurt as much
                            as the feeling of not knowing what hit you
                                 the feeling of not knowing where exactly
                                                             the sudden breakup hit you
and every time you recall
in anguish and shame
your sudden pathetic fall
                     your mantra echoes
                     your
                             inner
                                     voice
                             keeps
                                      ringing in your ears
                                      not again
                                      not again
                                      not again.