Letting Go Of Brent And Other Christmas Miracles: Chapter 6

 

When the world comes crashing down around you everything looks very dark. You aren't sure where to turn and thoughts that run through your mind are things like “I don't know what to do” and “Where do I go from here?” That's what happened to me. I found myself awake in the middle of the night steeped in them. If I'm not directing, if I'm not telling stories, then who am I? Am I still a storyteller when nobody sees the product of my labor? Eventually I realized that question was too much like if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear did it actually fall?

When we create something, when we open up our minds, our hearts and show others pieces of our souls and no one stops to look at the result does it have any value at all? Once upon a time I wouldn’t have thought twice before saying “yes,” for several days last week I wasn’t so sure.

This morning I was sitting at my favorite table in the very back of the Starbucks down the street from my house when a former classmate wandered up behind me and started reading over my shoulder while I was working on chapter five. He said all that dark night of the soul stuff really drew him in. I explained this was a private project and not intended for public consumption, he countered with “Every good director knows every word they write is a potential film.” I smiled but refused to let him read the whole thing. I have to admit his enthusiasm gave me a little boost. He sat down and we talked for a bit, when James offered me a job making changes to your current project I was floored. I told him I’d think about it. I already know I'll turn it down. I have to trust myself, until I know I can do that I'm staying out of your professional circle.

It did make me think, what if this is all just a matter of perspective? What if an inability to let you just exist as you are without making some big deal about it is possible? If I'm going to keep creating, keep directing, odds are good we're going to cross paths some day. I don't want a crush to keep me from my work. My creativity. My purpose. My joy. It lead me to make a decision, tonight I’ll put one of your performances in the DVD player and watch it. If things go okay, in a day or two I'll watch another one.

I’ve known for a while now that my biggest mistake was convincing myself that a romance between the two of us was possible. It’s time to find a way to take apart the story I created. Any good director knows not every story makes it into production, this is just a matter of recognizing the story I wove in my heart is not going to be picked up. These things happen all the time.

Marley

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My Dearest Brent,

They say if you love someone let them go. If they were yours they'll come back if they don't come back they never were yours to begin with. I’ve always hated that saying, it's so final. Losing Lester among all the changes led to a sad time, I fell back into old habits for a time. While lost in a sea of YouTube videos about manifesting what you want, attracting the person you want, and all of that business I ran across one about letting go in a healthier way. It said to let go with loving thoughts, gratitude for the good times, and compassion. I have to say the idea felt right, to let go with loving thoughts. I pictured you, mentally let go with loving thoughts, and I felt better. It wasn't so final, it wasn't so sad, and it was real.

Although taking this new direction didn't change everything completely overnight, today is a brand new day. And today, instead of choosing to be afraid of my feelings, I choose to acknowledge them. The good parts, the bad parts, the parts that need to change…all of it. Instead of choosing to not look in your direction, instead of hiding how I feel like some big dark secret, I choose to acknowledge that the feelings have been here for a long time and regardless of how one-sided they are they do exist.

I have decided to make a choice every day to take a moment and let go of you with loving thoughts.

The truth is for years I have looked at you through the eyes of that young woman I was on the the day we first met, focusing on the parts of you that attracted me then. I’m not sure I ever really knew you Brent at least not in the way someone who is in love with another person knows them.

I hope you have the happiest and most beautiful life.

I hope you live your life being the best version of yourself. I hope you find a love that is just a small percentage of the feelings I carried for you and I hope you feel worthy of it.

I’m still learning Brent. Right now I’m learning how to see hope.

I’ve learned hope is not something to be achieved, it’s not something to be acquired. 

The best way to have hope is to look at others and want good things for them. The best way to have hope is to look at yourself and want good health and happiness and to make beautiful things and to feel a sense of love and a feeling of home surrounding you everyday.

I’m learning that hope is something you have to cultivate from within. The difficult part being, sometimes you have to plant it and cultivate it and find a way to make it grow in darkness. Tomorrow and every morning that follows I’ll get up, I’ll walk through the darkness, I’ll check on my hope and see if it's growing. If it isn’t I’ll check to see if it needs water, I’ll set up a light. I will do whatever I need to in order to help it grow.

I won’t say goodbye, I will say until we meet again as the people we really are I wish you every possible happiness.

All my best Renee.

 

 

Christmas day came and went. I spent most of the time with friends coming home late in no hurry to return to an empty house. Upon returning, I spent much of the evening walking through rooms, taking stock of what had been packed for storage, what was staying, and what would still need to be packed up the next day. December 26th was on a Friday I would be clearing out on a Saturday leaving me close to a week to unpack and acclimate to my new home.

Andy, Cassandra's husband, stopped by early the next morning to see if he could help with anything. We took the remaining boxes marked for storage to the storage unit and secured it. Not knowing how long I was going to be living in the new apartment, I stopped by the office leaving a payment that would cover my rental fees until winter was over. I thanked Andy for his help with a cup of coffee and a piece of fresh coffee cake knowing this was his holiday break from the kids.

Cassandra arrived for her Mommy break at one-thirty with a take-out bag in hand, her excuse being she had a taste for something which wasn’t drenched in grease or sugar and there was no way her little darlings would appreciate her food choice. 

With all efficiency, the remaining pieces of my life were packed up by dinner time. It’s a strange feeling when everything you consider to be a representation of your life is packed up in boxes and your house stands virtually empty like a blank canvas waiting for the next resident to turn it into their version of home.

“You miss him.” Cassandra observed.

I look at her without responding.

“You’re looking for Lester.” She said.

“I am. I’ll probably be doing that for a while.”

“What are you going to do with these?” Cassandra asked, pointing to a box which consisted of Lester’s dishes and toys. An unopened bag of cat food lay across the top of it.

“I thought I’d take it to the shelter down the street from the new place and make a donation.”

She nodded without sharing her opinion.

This time.