My Apolytus Moment
Estimated reading time: 21 minutes, 12 seconds
Don’t Say Those Words – January 2024
As I continued my life without my beloved wife, I made progress each day in overcoming the overwhelming sense of loss and sadness that consumed me. By the early months of the second year, I felt my grief was finally behind me, and I could look forward to a brighter future. However, fate had other plans for me, and by the end of the second year, I fell in love with someone new. I had never thought that I would love again, but it was life-changing when I did.
From the beginning, I felt an inexplicable connection to this person, and we started chatting via text and phone more and more frequently. As time passed, I realized my feelings for her were more than friendship. I mustered up the courage to express my feelings to her, and my surprise, it felt like I had fallen in love like a teenager does, throwing all practical concerns to the wind.
Initially, everything worked perfectly, and I thought she was also falling in love with me. However, like a mirage, it was only a relationship in the cobwebs of my mind. Once I realized it was one-sided, like quicksand, the relationship fell apart, leaving me bewildered and heartbroken.
Despite the unforeseen events, I still held onto the hope that we could resolve any issues and salvage our relationship. Our first and only in-person meeting after confessing our love for each other was a pivotal moment I will never forget. I poured my heart out to her, expressing how much I loved her and how my feelings had only grown stronger over time.
Being in love with someone who loved me filled my heart with hope and anticipation as I finally mustered the courage to express my love for her. But the response I received shattered my hopes and left me devastated. Her words were like a sharp knife that pierced through my heart. She said she did not feel the same way and asked me not to say I loved her. As I spoke, my voice trembled, and my words seemed to evaporate into the ether, like dew burning off the grass in the park on a hot summer day. Despite my pain, I tried to listen as she explained that she might have initially given me the wrong impression as she had never been in love with me.
The weight of her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I spent the rest of our time together in a dazed state, sleepwalking through our interactions. In the following days, I bargained, denied, and became overwhelmed by a deep depression.
Despite being clear that she did not love me, during our conversation, she hinted at intimacy. However, she made it clear that it couldn’t be anything she would regret. If it had been a one-night stand, it wouldn’t have been her who would have felt any regret. I remembered my wife’s words, reminding me that I was a romantic at heart and that I should only fall in love with someone who loves me back just as much.
That night, I chose to walk away to live and love another day. As I continued to grieve, I found solace in the insightful writings of Merritt Malloy, who taught me that love transcends death and never fades away. During the most heart-wrenching moments of my second grieving phase, I revisited her poignant musings on loneliness, finding comfort in her words.
The profound words of Anna Quindlen in her novel After Annie continue to resonate with me. As she puts it, grief is like a force of nature, similar to springtime. Just when you think the long winter of sorrow is ending, it can come back with a vengeance, overpowering you again. The thought of moving on from the pain can feel like an act of betrayal.
Having faced and conquered all-consuming grief in the past, I know that I am capable of doing so again. However, I also know that I must proceed with extreme caution before entering into a new relationship, as love can be the most potent force in the universe but also the most dangerous.
All five stages of grief – Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance – occurred in random order, sometimes two or three at a time. With my wife, grief quickly shifted from the fifth stage to the sixth, meaning I worked diligently to create her memorial garden in Hanson Park. It was almost as if the Grief Gods wanted to remind me of the stages I had skipped.
While I long for happiness in a loving relationship, I have realized that being alone may be my only option. I am committed to staying on the healing path for as long as possible, knowing that it’s a journey that takes time.
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
