Moving On

Image can be found here

When I posted the Six Minutes series, I didn't expect the number of comments I received.  Many of them were positive, but some were not.  I expect negative feedback.  It is the hazard of sharing what is private in a public forum.  And my skin is pretty thick when it comes to it - mostly because I can attribute much of the negativity to ignorance.  They are not in my head.  They have not lived it.  I get it.  I was once there too...

One, in particular, struck a chord with me.  In it, the anonymous poster was basically lambasting me for reliving the past.  Its time I forgot, let be, and move on was their sentiment.

This is my response to them... and to everyone else who says it is best to move on.

I will not "move on."  I do not desire to "move on."  It is, in fact, virtually impossible in my eyes to "move on."  To move on implies leaving the past behind you, and starting a new.  Kurt is too much a part of me to simply shake it off and leave him behind.  By nature of our son, I cannot leave him behind.  Even if it were in my best interest, it would be a disservice to a boy who wants - and deserves - to know about his dad.  And Gavin aside, quite frankly, I don't want to.  I don't want to leave Kurt behind.  Realistically, I don't think I could even if I tried.

Moving on, in my mind, is not an option.

What I can - and am trying to do, however, is move forward.  Accepting that this has changed me.  Accepting that this is a part of me.  And using that acceptance to propel me to do something else, something more. 

I struggle with that at times.  Its easy to get caught in what could - and should - have been.  It is the more desirable of the options.  It is the place I still long to be.   Blame complicated grief.  Blame the PTSD.  Blame my stubbornness.  Blame the fact that I still live in the same house.  Blame the universe.  Blame god.  Whatever it may be, I can admit that many of my thought pattens keep me there.

But with every morning a new, every step I take, every breath of my lungs and beat of my heart, I believe that I am slowly moving forward.

Those that are close to me see it more than do I.  They tell me I have changed.  That I am "better."  That things are not as raw.  They can see the difference, the progression, even when I feel stuck.  On my bad days, many days, I doubt them.  But there are some days that even I have to agree... I am not where I was a year ago.  Not as far as I would like to be.  As I expect to be.  But I have not been standing still...

If someone looses a leg, they do not "move on."  They do not put it behind them, forget about it, and keep going as though nothing out of the ordinary happened.  They move forward.  They accept.  They adapt.  They survive.  And in time, they relearn to thrive.  I didn't lose a leg.  But I did lose one half of myself - my identity, my future, my self-confidence, my world paradigm, my heart...

I'm sure many of you will read this as a matter of semantics.  Move on.  Move forward.  It's all the same.  But to me, those semantics are the difference between leaving Kurt behind, and carrying him with me into the future.  The impossible, and the difficult.  The unforgivable, and the desirable.

Whatever the future may hold, Kurt and I still walk the road together.  For my sake, for Gavin's sake, and for Kurt's honour I will not leave him behind.  I will neither forget nor minimize the impact he has had on me.  I could not if I tried.  I will not move on.

Perhaps it would be easier if I did.  If I could.  But I can assure you that nothing on this road thus far has been easy.  So I continue to move forward.  Perhaps with a little more baggage.  Perhaps at a slower pace.  Perhaps not the most direct nor smoothest route.  But I will get us to where we were going.

Step by step.  Day by day.  Moving forward into the future.

To you nay-sayers out there, I will not judge your chosen road.  All I ask is for you to do the same...