Once, was never enough. . . not even for me

Diary Entry - 34

I haven't written in quite a while, simply because I have had no time, no. . .that isn't true.  I simply have been too withdrawn to manage this blog in any real way. 

Life can show no mercy, make you feel like you have gone crazy and then the very next breath, lift you up while spreading the wings of memories as if they were tiny feathers in a pillow. 

I am without  a doubt on the cusp of a few major decisions.  Yet, as always, I cannot seem to go forward without looking back. . .why, I have no idea. . .

I spent the week in Florida, on the beach, with a friend.  I soaked up the sun, watched the surf pound the beach . . .over and over again and drank wine as the sun went down.  The sounds were soothing, familiar and intimate. . . all at once, like that of a long lost lover that time has not forgotten, no matter how hard you try.

I was on Facebook earlier tonight.  The longer I am on there, the more of my past, I see.  Tonight, I was looking through old pictures, a friend had posted.  One in particular moved me to write. . .it was of his farmhouse, burning to the ground, some 25 years ago. 

I thought of that house, the hundreds of times that I had been in it, the memories of. . .the people who lived there, the family that was, in so many ways, mine. . .for however brief a time.    I thought about all the love that had been made. . . in just about every room by the two of us and naturally, I thought about how time had changed everything, everyone and all the choices, decisions and different paths that had flowed since I was a girl in the livingroom of that house, facing parents that I did not know, but that welcomed me with open arms and had such a major impact on me.

The Indian culture have a belief that when someone is born to be the mate of someone, no matter the circumstances, that the mating is for life and that everyone has that one person that they "imprint" on.  Others say, love comes and goes or that you can love more than one person at a time.

I don't know.

How do you know?  Is it possible to truly love more than one person?  Is it possible to find love more than once in your lifetime, and I mean the kind of love that criples you, is gut wrenching, unbearable, euphoric and has a passion that is unequaled?  Is it possible to ever let that imprint fade into something other than the ever constant reminder that your heart was never really given back to you?  If it doesn't, how do you reconcile the finality that you are living as a shell, of what you could have been. . .or should be?  How do you keep those that love you from being hurt by your indifference?

I don't know.

He changed me, irrevocably.  I know that now, just as the choices that were made for me and those that I made myself, did the same.  They all shaped the view I have of life, love, sex, passion, lust, family and friends.  Could I go back and change it, would I? 

I don't know.

He is always with me.  No matter where I am, who I am with, what I am doing.  It has been that way all my life.  Will it always be so?

I don't know.