Apr 8, 2013

G for Gone

 Kinda had to stretch to come up with the story for this one, but I think it was worth it.

We met in college, both so unsure of ourselves, but we figured it out together somehow.  Okay, the joints might have helped a little bit. And my meddling roommate. And your insistent mother. But eventually we discovered who we were as adults and during the process discovered we were meant to be.

Our post college plans already involved a move to the East Coast to start our adult lives, I just made it more adult by proposing during the graduation ceremony. I couldn't have made it through school without you, just like I knew I wouldn't make it through life without you. We were too busy kissing to throw our caps.

But within a year we learned that who we thought we were, who we grew into during our four years of tertiary education, was only part of our true selves.

There was a reason we had been drawn together.  Like attracts like, and we were the only two demigods on campus.

You have muse blood in you.  And so, you've been trying to find and connect with this new aspect of yourself. You've joined a writer's group, auditioned for commercials and shows, now take ballet.  You've never been artsy before, but when you showed me a clay mug you made at a studio last week, pride in your eyes despite the uneven rim, I can tell you're happy.  You claim that everything you try feels right.

I'm happy for you, I truly am, but this new inner person you are discovering is different from the one I knew in school, the one I proposed to.  You come home late, you miss dates, and you have come up with new names. A stage name, a pen name, a dance name.  Sometimes, I feel as if with each new name you become a different person. You aren't Judith Park anymore. You're Delilah London,  Cleo Koula, Samantha Trabotii.

You are finding yourself again, but this time without me.

I wouldn't say you are leaving me behind, for I am doing the same.  I rise every morning to do sun salutations, and I volunteer at a local therapeutic riding center. With all your new adventures, I don't have the funds for my own, but still I've found my way to be near horses like my Olympian relative.  I only ride on occasion, but I'm a natural and seem to have a way with them.  If I weren't saving what I could for our wedding, whose date we have yet to pick, I would be saving for a mount.

Rising with the sun, greeting the dawn, is my own way for connection with Apollo, but you don't seem to notice. You expect me to oo and ah over your artistic creations,  wrapped up in the world of the muse to the point you don't bother wondering where I am when I'm at the center, don't ask if I'm having trouble sleeping to wake up at 5 or if I'm feeling well if I wake up at 8 depending on what the sun is doing that time of year.

You are involved with your creativity so much you quit your job at the bank.

You no longer answer when I call 'Judith'.

You are no longer the woman I fell in love with.
But I can not be angry for your change of character, because you are still you, just a different version.

And I have changed as well.

And so, as I'm watching you sleep tonight, I am also saying good by.  You have been communing with your talents, I have been communing with my ancestor.  This dawn, I will climb aboard the flaming chariot and help Apollo bring day to the world.  I will not be coming back.

Goodbye Judith. Or Delilah. Or Cleo. Or Samantha. Whoever you are when you wake this morning. I used to love you, I guess I still do, but it has changed as we have, and so I'm taking that ring back.  Who knows when you'll notice I'm gone for good, but maybe you'll do a sun salutation or two to say hi once in awhile.


Sucks doesn't, not knowing who your girlfriend really is.  Review?


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