Get on your knees. Place your head to your clenched fists enough so you can feel your breath as you speak, help it remind you of the life ahead of you. Get used to the stains on the carpet, the polyester of your sheets, and the way your body rest against them. This prayer will take time.
Talk to God, cry if you have to, yell if you must; He can handle your anger.
Tell Him you don’t want to let go, tell Him you’re scared of an open palm because you’ve been holding love in a deathgrip for so long. Tell Him you fell in love once and you don’t know how to unlearn it. Tell Him you lost your best friend, that waking up doesn’t taste the same anymore.
When you’ve become too tired of finding metaphors to express how much you’ve lost. Take a breath. Surrender. Surrender your greatest and best-intentioned desires. Surrender even the New Years kiss you’ve imagined with him 20 years from now. Ask to let them go. Or better yet, ask to want to let them go.
Ask to replace that desperate, selfish, and human love with the kind of love that longs purely for the fulfillment of the other. Beg God for your best friend’s happiness. Just as you once dreamed for that same person to bring you happiness. Recognize that only one is love, know the difference.
It won’t take a single prayer on your knees to love this way. It will take nights, even fortnights, but it will happen. And you will recognize that pure love is freeing and that by loving this way your pain can’t hold you anymore the way you used to hold on to everything.
But until that day, remember to get on your knees. Place your head to your clenched fists enough so you can feel your breath as you speak, help it remind you of the life ahead of you.
Art courtesy of: Beth Hoeckel