My wife told a friend of mine (and I have so few) that he was one of those who "got me" too. For the uninitiated: "got me" i.e. understood me at a very deep level. It struck me how right she was. And how wrong too. Because while I love this dear friend of mine, he does not get me as Jennifer did.
She got me, almost completely. She had an insight that no other human person had into me. It was as if she was gifted with the ability to look into my soul.
I miss her on so many levels. This one is the hardest. That no one will ever get me again.
I was out tonight with three almost complete strangers. After a lot of wine (beer, espresso and lattes as well) it just struck me -- these people and yes, others in my life now would probably never ever appreciate the complexity that is me.
That in a room full of people I could be completely alone. That even if I was by myself I would not feel alone.
Jennifer got me very quickly, she never really accepted my whole make-up (she always felt that I was way too complex) but she knew me in a way that no one else did, almost from the get go. She searched much deeper within. She looked into my heart.
And she got me.
In our first weekend together, she got me. I knew then, as the world knows now, that she was truly my soul companion...
Now it seems to feel that no one else will. That is sad. Which makes me miss her all the more.
I remember crying with her very early into our journey with her cancer that we would not be able to grow old together -- her answer: what we had was more, much more intense than what most couples shared in a lifetime, and that it was better than two people who grew old together not really knowing each other. We made each other our priority. We had consistently made each other, the other’s centre. That in a world of billions there was only the both of us. Alone in a crowd. Together when we were alone.
The tears are rolling now.
I have opened myself to the possibility of another person in my life, but now it seems somewhat pointless – will she ever get me?
But no one has the singular perspective that my love had. And it wasn't just because we were together for nine years. I’ve known Vin for 30, Kev for 15.
What was is then? Maybe God made her that way. Maybe He knew I had to be got then. What now?
Really, what now God?
Not being got is hard. Getting the other person and not being got is harder. The hardest is this: realizing that I will probably never be got again.
So here’s what we will do: not look to be got. Just get on with the living (and possibly not the loving) and pray, pray, pray that not being got will not change me as much as I’m afraid it will.
Pray that God will speak louder, clearer and bring people into my life that will get the bits of me they need to get. Or rather, that I need them to get.
Here’s a novel idea: maybe Junior will have his mum’s gift and get me as much as she could.
Lately it seems like I’m putting a lot on his tiny little shoulders – but he’s blessed with being able to manage it all in his own affable manner. He gets that from her.
Maybe he will get me when he grows up. Until then, I will try not to want to be got.
The dark night of the soul must pass.
