The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised I had created you.
The man I had loved was pure fantasy. He shone like a star. He was perfect; full of radiant light that would dissolve our shadows and create a blissful harmony. A truly spiritual, conscious relationship.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised you were just a man – just a human being with all the fears, insecurities and needs of any other. You did not deserve to be placed on the golden pedestal I had created, a pedestal that shone so brightly, it would inevitably burn itself to cinder, leaving a pile of ash where you had once stood.
I turned you into a man who was happy, when you were absorbed by sadness. I turned you into a man who was spiritually rich, when you were poor. I turned you into a man who was emotionally available, when you were stuck and blocked within yourself. I turned you into a man who believed in the abundance of life, the joy, the Shakti that runs through the cells of all beings. I believed you had that within you. I was blind to your suffering. I refused to see the depression that made you wake with a frown each morning. I convinced myself that your obsessive craving for me was true love, your possessive need for my attention was adoration. I was an addiction like any other; drugs, drink, women, quick fixes for your inner torment.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised that you hurt me to try to protect yourself from your own pain. You manipulated me. You needed me to be weak to make yourself feel strong. You needed to feel power over yourself, over your life, over your destiny and so you needed to abandon me. Knowing you who had the strength to walk away, to move on without looking back, having control over both of us made you feel strong, You had overcome your human weakness. But you were just a man.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised it was easier for you to walk away than to step into your shadow and look within. A heart that has been barricaded in for decades cannot easily be thrown open. Far easier to throw your hands up and fight. To throw aside the love, patience and loyalty I offered you. The man I had created would never have stooped so low. He would have tried, he would have talked, he would have held on and never let me go.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised you meant all the lies you had told me because you were convinced of them yourself. You believed in the fantasy, just as much as I did. I was the playwright and you played out the role. You too believed that you could be there for me and our children. You believed that you had enough to give. You were sure you had let go of the past. You weren’t aware that you had just carelessly buried it, hoping that by smothering those years you might escape them.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised that I had known all along that we were wrong, I hadn’t wanted to listen to my heart along the way as it warned me to stop. And then we were in so deep that I had to create another you to make it okay for me to stay. And I stayed. I clung on, living in my hopeless dream, praying that one day I would wake up and find you there, my fantasy man. Each time I forgave you, I was burying myself further into my contented dream, pushing reality to the outer edges of my consciousness and sinking into a spiralling fantasy where you were all the things you never could be. I dreamt of a life where you would inspire me, guide me, fly with me, laugh and cry with me.
But the day came when I knew I was over you. The day came when I knew I could never find real love with a man whose heart was caged like a forlorn creature, that has long lost all sight or memory of what it means to be free.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised my heart was beginning to open and I could feel again. The day that love started to rush through my veins again. The day my eyes opened wide and my heart felt willing to risk loving and believing. The day I felt the love rise up inside me, a love that is pure and whole without the need to possess.
The day I knew I was over you was the day I realised you were the last fantasy man in a line of no-hope, broken, desperate men that I had placed too high, too bright, loved too much all my life.
The day I knew I was over you, was the day I began to awaken to myself.