valentine's day

February 14, 2005
I lost my girlfriend to religion.
Seven years ago I met a girl who changed my life forever. Everyone fell in love with this girl; her enthusiasm was the most contagious thing since the common cold and her laughter rang out as bells pealing from a cathedral. She was the kind of person that you leave your soul with for safe keeping and, upon your return find it in better condition than you left it. She walked softly and with purpose in the world and found friendship with everyone she met along the way. Her stories were so colorful and endearing that it rarely mattered when she forgot the point or the punch line. She was fiercely loyal and dedicated to whatever her heart invested in. People spoke only quiet, admiring words about her and she heard them and held her head high, with tempered modesty. When she closed her eyes, I found a place to dream inside her peace. When she opened them, a million clear mountain lakes reflected onto me, with the brilliance of as many suns. When she sang, I knew the little girl she had been. When she spoke, I saw the intellectual that she had the potential to become. At the hint of a sigh escaping from her lips, I became desperate to find the source and remedy it at all cost. When she was out of sight, I called out to her from a place I have since lost the ability to find. I loved her as you love a celestial body that provides for your basic needs. She was everything I had ever wanted. I was saved.
The first four months were excruciating at times, as we were separated by a country. However, the agony was short-lived and replaced with the ecstasy of renting an idyllic suite in the country, just minutes from the college we were both attending. This year was marked by trivial arguments over cooking techniques, housekeeping standards, and issues involving various members of our respective families, but looking back on it now, it was completely uncomplicated and innocently blissful. The year ended with my graduation and, since she still had a year left in her studies, it became immediately evident that the nature of our relationship would change. I was offered a position I couldn’t turn down and she decided to stay behind. It turned out this second period of separation by great distance was more than I could accept and in my selfish, abandoned, and naive state, I involved myself with another woman. After the admission of guilt, we attempted to strengthen our weary relationship with renewed commitment and never ending new “action plans” and “techniques” to cement our reconciliation. However, she never understood the infidelity and the implications of it slowly destroyed her, leaving behind a shell of a woman that looked deceivingly similar to someone I had once loved. This new version held me at arm’s length, used countless manipulation games and fear tactics to hold me firmly under her thumb, and shamelessly defamed my character to any listening ear, securing her place high and mighty on a victim’s pedestal while repeatedly and unapologetically lying to me about everything. My girlfriend had gone missing and I searched relentlessly for her for almost four years, keeping faith that she could be recovered. I would have done anything to save her.
She passed away this past year. And I don’t mean that her physical being expired. She passed through and away from my life by choice and I have mourned this passing. Her face is a blurry vision of moving light and color, her smile a warmth in my chest, her laughter a lump in my throat, her stories conversational recollections. Her doll-like fingers wrapped around mine, her innate ability to fall asleep in any position on a moment’s notice, and the trademark sound of her “whistle” are all smirks that cross my lips when I am alone, or at least certain that no one is watching. She is now only a collection of memories, which is all anyone can ever hope to become, all told.
It has been suggested to me that lives can be dissected into seven year increments, each of which can be identified using trends in aptitudes, health and behavioral patterns, and relationships. Tomorrow will be day 45 of my new seven year cycle. I’m looking forward to it. I’m moving forward to fulfilling relationships, positive health, well-being, and behavioral patterns, and a whole new set of skills and abilities. I am breathing her out of me with every breath. My aching shoulders will not carry the burden of her despair and my heavy feet will not be tempted to carry me back to her door. I will not carry her as a broken emptiness in my heart any longer. I don’t feel guilty anymore. It’s not my fault that she went missing, but I understand that it is necessary for her to believe that it is and she has to find a new perspective, a new purpose, a new understanding, a new reality, a new religion.
Some people just have to be saved.