A lesson is always waiting to be learned when you least expect. I have learned two over the course of five days, one at work late last week and one just now while playing piano. Neither lesson had anything to do with what I was doing at the time, and yet my mind just seemed to wander on its own, released by my consciousness to seek whatever knowledge it would. And, in an instant, my inner self grabbed the knowledge and slammed it in front of my eyes, undeniable. That’s the beauty of activities like playing the piano, instead of forcing your conscious mind on the unconscious you are focused, attentive, so the rest of your mind can do what it will. That is when I always learn the most necessary, and painful, life lessons.

I wonder about my Grandma Dee-Dee a lot. She lost her husband while she was in her forties. She went to work outside the home for the first time in her life, finished putting two kids through school while watching out for the first two and lived her life to all appearances like everything was fine. How do you do that? How do you lose the love of your life while there is still so much life to live? And knowing that you are going to lose them early, lose them having had only enough time to love with them with all your soul, but not enough time follow after, can you give everything you have?

You have too, because to short change your love is to deny yourself and your match all that can be. But every day is bittersweet because you know it will end. At least if you don’t know you can just live. But maybe if you do know you can make more of it. It’s a twisted thing—you have to love them completely because there is no other choice, but you know one day you will be left alone. A cold spot in the bed next to you, no hugs or gentle kisses on the brow, no passionate nights in the cold of winter. Vision is a terrible thing sometimes, and while it is necessary to accept certain aspects of life it is not easy. Knowing that the person you love more than any other life on Earth will leave you stranded without his or her physical presence is a disturbing thought.

I have years of repressed emotion built up inside of me. Any one who knows me to any degree won’t be shocked by that knowledge. I’m the coolest person you know until you say the wrong thing at the wrong time of the month and I try to kill you. Not because I’m truly angry at you, but because you tapped a hidden vein of aggression from who knows how long ago. You become the easy target. To lose someone I planned my life around would destroy me if I don’t learn a better way to cope with my self. I understand now that crying isn’t a bad or evil thing. It isn’t weak or symbolic of manipulative female. It just is. Expressing your anger or discomfort or disappointment or sadness is necessary for a healthy life. It makes some people uncomfortable but that is why one has friends.

I have gone through some of the hardest times of my life alone to prepare me because, ultimately, I have only myself to rely on. I have friends and family I would die for in an instant but there is no one that can support me when I am at my lowest. I would drain them dry. But I have to learn to lean on them. It is something every human being must learn if they are to have a healthy life. To put absolute faith and trust in another human being to help us hold ourselves up when we will surely topple without their love. That is an enormous amount of trust to place in another person, especially knowing that they might not be there forever. As I face that thought I find myself torn between wanting to curl up in bed and cry or just sit here and cry (don’t worry I’m not crying). It is such a horrible thought. And yet, people take that chance every day. And they live fuller lives because of it.

I don’t think it is because of the adolescent immortality syndrome, but rather because they all know something I only truly learned today. To love someone fully and share his/her love in return is worth all the pain of loss. You’re never truly alive until you hand your life over to someone else’s hands. Heartbreak is a bitch, but I’ll take that over regret any day. I never regret doing something. I just regret being too scared to do what I truly wanted to. I will not be too scared to love.

Big words, but can I live up to them? I suppose we’ll find out in twenty years or so.