Letting Go

In terms of relationships, I’ve let go in two significant ways, once by becoming involved with Ty initially and secondly in terminating the union. Ty and I both really believed we were God’s gift to one another, the answer to our prayers. In hindsight however, it seems to me, like God and Satan do indeed conspire and place bets, as suggested in the Book of Job. The same situation is the ideal test both to provoke growth and healing in one or to destroy one, depending on your wager. They agreed on the test but the outcome was our choice. So in our test, I was the novice at sex who had made room in his life for it, while Ty was the professional that no longer wanted to use or be used for sex. The most likely outcome is we’d both use the other. The miraculous would have occurred though if we could have loved the other into the changed experience we each so needed. I needed to let go of my whole past existence, of my stalemate and condemnation with sex and others, and let desire draw me out and complete me. Ty needed the opposite, to let go of the condemnation and shame around where he felt sexual was all he was. WE were both the perfect catalyst to the others healing and a perfect foil to it.

It was a huge letting go for me to fall into and realize my possibility in Ty, and likewise six years later to now let go of the yet unrealized potential and move on! Did I do the same for him? It would be impossible to determine if God or Satan had won, in so divided of an outcome, as ours.

So I stand right now in need of a great letting go, but from what? The torment and temptation is huge, to never let go of the dream. The dream is that we can love the other enough still, that they realize their potential through us and we through them. That’s so like though the huge vanity in my fatal demon error. I have no power to release anyone but myself in relationship with the other. Still I want to save Ty, despite myself and him, even as it destroys us. The very thing, in actuality, that I need to do in the end, is to not rescue Ty or myself, but surrender instead to the great fall. The only power I have is in surrender. For the reality is, each time I bailed him out he became more helpless and it deepened his resentment of me and his own self-condemnation.

I let go in humility but not in shame. For it is not in Ty to complete me, nor in me to complete him. It’s within us to surrender and move beyond us both.