Jay's Journey Back

My Forever Place Online

An Open Letter to the Past


It took me a little time but it finally has come. The gut punch that feels as if it came from the far reaches of the map hitting me squarely. Although our time was short, my love grew quicker than I’d like to admit. Quicker than yours. Deeper than yours. I finally stopped long enough today to think on what happened. But this house is far too quiet to think. I never knew how small these four walls were until they started to squeeze. I frequently think of you during the day. At night, while I stare at the stars and moon I whisper your name, hoping that somehow we are still connected and you will hear me.

It seems as if my entire adult life has been patched together with one broken moment after the next. Some say it’s bad timing, others say it’s just not meant to be. But when I am alone and not putting on a smile or brave face, I can’t help but feel I am a lost soul forever searching for – happiness, acceptance, a figurative soft place to land after all these years of madness. As I grow older the cuts seem to go deeper, take longer to heal and leave a much more lasting scar. Gone is the naivity of my youth, when I thought things can and will always come back around. I have lived far too long, seeing that the bitter reality of having loved is loss.

Please don’t mistake my words for any type of pity party. Far from it. I have experienced plenty of good times, but being one that writes and dreams and tries to live life as it comes, I sometimes get wrapped up in the forever. I find myself trying to write the wrongs into a happy ever after. Maybe that’s why I can’t simply move on. Just can’t pick up and cry out “NEXT!” My heart, my inner workings are far too fragile for simple romance. No, I need and have always craved the deepest of emotions and perhaps that in itself might explain why you’re gone. Why you left. I pushed for more, thinking I could storm the walls and rescue you from the darkness when in fact, I should have allowed for the journey to take its course. I believe in second chances, although they are rare. I know that if you have the opportunity to love something again that was once lost, it’s a gift and should be cherished as such. After all, my wrong turns have gotten me to the right places before and each broken road can always be paved smooth.


Being Alone Doesn’t Mean Lonely



The best part of my marriage was the separation and divorce. I can say that because my marriage was lousy and being single feels so much better than being miserable. The one thing, or I should say the three things I miss, are my step children. All of which I still have very close ties to. In fact, my step son Michael chose to live with me when his Mom and I split. He is now in his fifth year of being a US Navy sailor, 3 years in Japan and currently stationed in California. But being around them daily was what kept me smiling through the days.

I honestly think I got married because it’s what everyone around me was doing. Within a two-year period my close friends and myself were all married. And as fate would have it, 80% of those marriages are now just faded memories. I don’t know if I am the marrying kind. Not that I don’t enjoy being in a relationship but I know I don’t need a piece of paper to keep me faithful or giving it all I can, even when the going gets tough. I have never just walked away from a long term relationship. Just like everything in life worth while it takes effort. It’s that effort that many simply don’t buy into. To them it’s much easier to walk away, cut ties and start anew. We live in an age of I Love You, I Love You, I Can’t Live Without You, I’m Never Going To Leave You, I Hate You, I Never Want To See You Again. NEXT!

My single status, is hopefully by choice. I like to think I have complete control over my day to day and that includes who I allow into my heart. Sure, there are times when I miss having a partner in crime to share my day with but I also don’t think so little of myself or feel the need to take anyone for granted just to save myself from being alone at the end of the day. And for the record, being alone doesn’t always mean lonely.

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Writer Jay Long

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