by Nancy Chase - December 18, 2007
A few months ago, driven by my daughter’s despair over a romantic relationship that had recently ended, I started looking to professionals for answers because I was running out of things to say to her. She was stuck in a place that kept her hoping for a turnaround, pleading for one more try - when it was obvious there was none to be had. It took almost the entire semester and much counseling for her to finally accept that it was over and to move on. It was a difficult time for her and as it turned out, served as a lesson for both of us.
You see, I have an unrequited love of my own. Without going into all the details, there was a man, someone I grew to love very much. Some of the happiest times of my life were spent with him, and I know for him it was the same. Funny how I take such comfort in that now. But as in all things, timing is everything. He and I weren’t islands unto ourselves and for many reasons the relationship couldn’t move forward, so we brought it to an end. The two years that followed our ending were a blur of sadness and pain.
The thing is, through the instantaneousness of email, neither of us really let go. Months would go by without communication, and then all of a sudden a line dropped here or there would blossom into a back-and-forth flurry of correspondence, an outpouring of emotion all over again. I went out occasionally with others, but nothing could ever match what I had with him. Deep down inside I always hoped for a turnaround, for one more try, and lo and behold last year I finally got my wish. He came back. My unrequited love requited, for three days last December.
It was glorious, heady, thrilling and unparalleled fun those first two days. We were on vacation from everything, it was almost Christmas; anticipation was magnified, swelled, bursting. And then came the third day, the day of reckoning – and once again we found ourselves back to square one. All the same obstacles were still there, only we’d covered them up before dragging them out once again, stretched them interminably until they finally lay broken all around us. I came crashing to the ground that day, and in the long days and nights that followed it was like dealing with death. Death however, has a clean finality to it; you can’t email with death. Unrequited love is real, valid agony and no one can salve your pain with words of “there will eventually be someone else…” because the truth is, there never will be anyone else quite the same. Grief can be paralyzing, its very nature is designed to hold you back. I understood only too well what my daughter was feeling, but I also knew that second chances aren’t what we imagine them to be. I knew her grief was something that must be lived through and endured.
And she has, and we do.
Nancy Chase is a writer from Pennsylvania. She also pens the Overheard column as topazz and can be found at topazz (with a zz).