March 6, 2014 § 1 Comment

One of the reasons I enjoy reading fantasy novels so much is the world-building.  I am always in awe of writers like Ursula Le Guin or Brandon Sanderson, who can pack such fascination and mystique into their different universes, time and time again.  And that, I think, is (only) one of the reasons why breaking up with Danny has been so difficult.  The loss of all those worlds that could have been, that existed in my daydreams of the future.  It’s good to take one day at a time, but it’s also only human nature to plan ahead, to see a future with someone, especially when you are together for a number of years as we were.  I’ve always been one who wanders off into daydreams, imagining possibilities, conversations, spinning out interesting scenarios from any possible little encounter.  All those thoughts I had about us are gone, all  our future worlds’ potential, all the ideas and hopes and casual wonders.
I realize I might come across as desperately heartbroken and dying inside; I don’t mean to, especially in case Danny himself will read this.  (The thought of which I don’t mind: this blog has brought me incredible joy over the years, and it would not exist if it weren’t for him.)  My heart does hurt badly but I don’t want him to feel guilty.  Danny and I had different ideas for our future and we did what had to be done.  I don’t regret what I did or said- we both certainly tried to make it as simple and amicable as possible- merely the losses that came right along with it.  Those worlds I had spun out in my dreams, worlds with his family and friends, oh especially his wonderful family, worlds of love and laughter and the relationship we’d spent years cultivating.  To strip myself of my current life in less than an evening’s time and carry on into a suddenly bleak and very impenetrable future was the hardest battle I have ever fought.  I use past tense although, trust me, it is still ongoing.
I am a creature of habit, a lover of routine and the comforts of the familiar.  I am Catholic for many reasons, not the least of which is the eternal, unchanging aspect of its world. The seasons of the Church come and go, flowing ever onward in the cycle of faith, mystery being found even in repetition, and I delight in that.  I like to travel, but I don’t need to explore the world, unless it’s a world within a book and I’m exploring it while safely ensconced under my down blanket.  And yet, here I am.  The world I venture into now has only light enough for me to see until the end of today.  And although at times these past few weeks, it has seemed desolate and forsaken, menaced by sorrow, it is not.  This strange new world, birthed in the season of dust and ashes, already holds those dear to me: my family, who cheer me up with food and viewing parties of Charlton Heston’s epic The Ten Commandments, my friends both old and new, who let me cry in the middle of public places or teach me that the gift of friendship can be found in the most unexpected ways, and, of course, inexorably, inevitably, Christ.  He is present in this world as He was in my past, and ever will be.  Though I’ve drawn back and turned around and run away so many times before, His heart calls out to mine yet again, Hound of Heaven that He is.  I come heartsore and soul-silent to this world, alien to me now but real, more real than any universe in any book.  I pray for strength, for hope, for Danny, for joy, for the courage necessary to carry on.


§ One Response to Worlds

  • Walt says:

    “mystery being found even in repetition” — and I thought only Ronald Arbuthnott Knox could turn a phrase like that! Mary Kay Clark would be proud of you.

    I love you, Rosemary!

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