Lyrical Life

I know I’ve posted it before, but Amy Grant’s “Missing You” song is really becoming my anthem lately. Not only does it keep running through my head, but it seems I am living it out. “I’m living out the life that I’ve been given, but baby I still wish you were mine.” It drives me crazy. I really am living life, I’m not sitting at home obsessing, I’m not refusing to do things with people, I am trying experiences I never thought I’d try, and I am loosening up and not being such a stick-in-the-mud in many ways. But it really feels like that line. I am simply living out the life I have been given. I don’t have the power to change it, at least in the area I most want to change it, so it is either live what I have been given or shut down and completely loose myself, so I do what I do. Still, even in the moments where I totally let go and loose myself in the moment, his absence is cutting, the questions of how he can be so happy plague me, the me I loved being so much is out of reach. “Missing you is just a part of living,” a part of breathing, of waking, of sleeping, of existing.

I am not waiting for him to return. Even though I can’t understand why he won’t/doesn’t, I know that he is not going to. I know that he loved me and was happy living his life with me for awhile. I know that he doesn’t and isn’t anymore. Whoever said it takes two to love was an idiot. It might take two to build a life together, but it sure as hell doesn’t take two to love.

I am not sure where this life I have given is going to lead, what will be the conclusion, or who I will become. Here is all I know: I will keep living it. At least until I don’t.