Last night, I received a message from a dear friend whose marriage has imploded. The love, the laughter, the twilight swims, the Christmas kisses, the hand holding in bed in the middle of the night– all have disappeared in the smog of ugliness, recriminations and worst of all, dreams of what could have been.
In the wake of a once beatiful and sometimes torrid romance, there are bewildered, saddened children, a cold and barren home and a stone where my friend’s heart used to be. She is a survivor, a magical woman, and I know that this will pass and that the man who has caused this misery has locked himself out of the only heaven he will ever know.
As my friend reviews the events of the past decade– the rise and fall, the pain and the denial, the hope and the hopelessness– she is engaging in a postmortem that takes its greatest toll on all of us. Whatever goes away, falls apart, sinks into the sea– be it a love, a friendship or a business– we tend to look backwards for a mix of torture and salvation:
- Did I do something wrong?
- Could I have prevented this?
- What if I had been stronger? Wiser?
- Perhaps I was too controlling?
- Maybe I wanted too much?
Nonsense. Nonsense to all of these stupid and wasteful questions and nonsense to the impulse to stare into the rear view mirror when the windshield, and the future it portends, are all that is important.
The wonderful truth camouflaged by periods of loss is that winners cannot be held down. Lovers cast aside can and will find new novas that will bath them in an even brighter light. Entrepreneurs suffering setbacks will bemoan their loss and then act on a plan to exceed all that they had accomplished before.
Thus is the beauty of being an independent person with relentless dreams. The blood between the lines evaporates the way the morning sun melts away the midnight snow.Email This Post