Manthano: Good Mourning

Yesterday, Rachel and I agreed to break up after two years of romantic relationship. God is good, and His plan is for my good… and I really do mean that-- He’s prepared me for this trial through community and discipleship, and I’ve received profound compassion and encouragement in the 24 hours since.

Still, even with the best of terms for ending and a hopeful future beyond, the loss of that specific intimacy and promise is in itself terrible. Every part of it will be used, and I’d like to write about those lessons and blessings eventually… but for now I will simply lament. It’s Biblical, and will help me advance towards complete healing.

You do not have continue reading though, and that word of caution goes especially for ewe if you read this.

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The first thing which came to mind as I anticipated breakup: there are countless reminders of her all around me.

I’ve been wearing a twenty-sided die ring she gave me every day, which I initially believed was a promise ring, and which feels quite oddly naked once I remove it. I haven’t tested its absence for a full day, but I imagine I will also miss the periodic soft metal clicks it contributes (particularly when I hand drum). I’ve decided I can change its symbolic meaning from Rachel-specific to an emblem of eros-agape’s necessary and chosen risk (in addition to a token of friendship from Rachel). So, some items can be repurposed and kept in that way, and we decided that we should keep whatever gifts we can unless we really don’t want them in our life… but there are inflexible exceptions, such as the two photographs I have of her-- one that gazed at me from the corner of my computer desk, and another placed onto my entryway portrait to greet me when I arrived home. For now, they are stored in a small chest of various relics I collected to remember our two years together, and will not be revisited for some time until I am ready.

I do not need to say much about the overwhelming number of digital photographs I have of her on my phone and Facebook, and probably won’t get to deleting/archiving for a while longer. I don’t mind preserving the good memories, and it truly was an overall positive experience, yet it is no longer appropriate for me to have images of her (or us sharing affection) on hand… which leads to my second struggle: the way I must look at her and interact with her is an insanely drastic change.

Before, I had someone who belonged to me and I belonged to. I could admire her picture or her present self, and that was totally right… and now it is completely different. It’s impossible to forget things changed, of course, yet somehow it still takes up extra thought and energy, whether I’m exerting will to avoid looking at her or to direct my attention on her in a neutral manner. I must see her differently, and now I no longer have the reassuring sense that my attraction is owed to an exclusive known lady; I will notice the allure of other women, and it will be awkward and vulnerable, though used for good and a common experience for all singles.

(I hope this isn’t sounding too weird, since I am posting this for other people to read, or too dramatic, since I am still determined to be the best friend I can be with Rachel despite obstacles and frustrations).

I didn’t even say anything about affection. It's a similar principle to the freedom I previously had for looking at her. I’m going to value phileo hugs from all my friends far more during this coldest winter.

Additionally, the loss of intellectual intimacy is acutely felt. Even when you take out the thrill of romantic interactions, just having someone to share any thought at any moment of the day meant so much. Though my personality itself is always my own, a lot of the ways I constructed its expression was based around her, so that it feels like a portion of myself is torn and lost. I have to be quite mindful of how I wield the depth of knowledge she shared to me; whereas before I automatically brought her into conversations as it became relevant, it is no longer my place to include her name or employ that intimate knowing.

We’re still going to be around one another frequently. Again, I do desire strong friendship with her, so proximity itself isn’t a problem, but there’s some conflicts looming around it. I don’t expect to find a comparable level of comfort between us for a while, therefore, it will be very easy to feel jealous as her other friendships are so much more enthusiastic. In the long term, I’m terrified for what it will be like when flirting (in the Christian-y way) or a new boyfriend happens… but I will stop myself here. I have to take this one day at a time.

And then there’s the whole idea of the future, which I thought I knew she would be in as my dearest companion. I was wrong; people are wrong; it’s okay and God is still behind and before and within me. I know. However, because I trusted she would remain constant, the contrast makes my road ahead suddenly seems so much more blind and chaotic. I have Jesus as my light nonetheless, so I can move forward… it’s just not the direction I ever wanted to sojourn.

All of that said, as you surely noticed and I intentionally organized my writing to emphasize: these are just things. Things which are understandably valuable, which is why I take time to express them. Things, which I could fill a whole book with if I so chose. But ultimately, things that are only given worth in relation to the person I was in relationship with: Rachel. That’s where the real loss is, because mere things are reflections of knowing and Loving.

I still have her as a good friend, and though God is sovereign over everything it does appear this is what she is meant to be… yet I feel a painful, irrational yearning to (somehow) go back. I had a deeper way of knowing her and pursuing her good, and now that is lost with permanent finality. Because from my perspective she was unblemished and all the potential for continuing was there, this ending of such a peculiar chosen good is in its own way evil… and that’s what I need to mourn right now before I move forward to the fuller story. I already know our Lord will not waste the smallest measure of suffering towards writing His perfect will.