I think one reaches a point where one does not know how they feel anymore. It is when all emotion has been engorged and vomited out and there comes a time of exhausted numbness. This is what has happened with me. Although I do feel.... and feel so much. Only I do not know what the point is of these feelings any longer. If they matter. Or most importantly, if these feelings are even returned as intensely. Because then, why am I bothering to feel this? Because, how can it be real if it is not returned?
In which case, I must exorcise it out of my soul. I must not continue to delude myself. Because it may be that I have been under some kind of altered state of emotion. You see, if there is no equivalent return of this force of energy, then I am deluding myself. And I think I have experienced enough life by now to realize that playing the fool is really a waste of time.
The problem is, what do I do with the emotions, left residual and unexplained? It is obvious, I know. I must examine them. Because any good student of psychology would know that if it is experienced it was because it came from somewhere deep and personal. Which means, I must resolve this within.
False heroes are the true enemy. That shining armor is easy to dazzle your reason. And by now I am rather too cynical to be lost in some fairy circle.
If Bran has chosen to go on without me, than I must go on. I must and I shall. I will. I will never surrender to defeat, no matter how much my heart might ache. The pain only makes me stronger. At least this is what I tell myself. Like a mantra. Because I must. If he has chosen to live his life without the faith of what he lead me to believe in.... then I must let him go. I must survive this. I know I can. I have already lived through so much loss. And even losses far worse than losing the poignant intensity of this kind of passion that I have known with him. This passion that has equaled to none other I have ever known in my life.... yes. But to measure that against life and death, mother and child.... well....
So what is my deep and personal issue within that I must resolve as it connects to Bran? Of course, we know it is obvious. Electra. He is my Agamemnon. I still long for father. I still ache for something that I never had. So what do I do? It is too late for me.... my time to be a daughter is long past. So I must learn to let this need go. Because I am not the first person to have to live a life bereft of father. Bereft of parental nurture. It is just a casualty of life. And life is cruel and unjust, we know. Life never promises to be fair. It just is. And we must take it. Or leave it. And leave it we all will one day, by our own hand or by its natural course or someone else's hand.
You see, my attraction to him was tied up with this vacancy inside my soul. And I think I have often abandoned my own reasoning and independence because of this infantile craving that makes me revert to childish and repressed needs. Or suppressed. Because I don't need him, or anyone. I don't. Nobody really does. We are born alone and we die alone. Our lives are our own experiences. Commitments are only romantic notions and exist only in our temporal state. Our true commitment is to ourselves.
I think he has chosen to let me go. He says it was to see to his kids, his life, his wife. She called him, something about an illness she hadn't told him about. I know it is serious. So I understand his need on principle. How can I fault him? I don't. There were medical tests she has had to undergo. He flew back to be with her through it all. MRI's and some procedure more serious.
Like an open hand that lets go of a valuable locket and lets it fall into the water. It falls from my hand metaphorically, as if from some bridge in Amsterdam, it drops into a canal. The chain and the heart that it is connected to, falls to be submerged, drowned. I will go on.... I cannot write anymore tonight. Maybe tomorrow.