Clearing Patterns of Failed Love – p.1 | Neomi May

Private Breathwork + Sound Healing Sessions in Costa Rica. Book Now

Clearing Patterns of Failed Love – p.1

– March 2019

It is something that she said that has altered my mood this way.

Yesterday I wrote:

The last three days every morning at 6 a.m. or a bit before, I go surfing. The morning is still, the tropical air steams from the ocean in the distance. The sun just barely begins to peer from behind the mountains creating a stellar sunrise. 15 minutes later, the sun pops up over the skyline and blasts golden rods in your eyes. It really feels magic.

The last few mornings he’s been out in the water. He casually floats by, says a brief hello and continues to float down the beach, half catching waves nearby, half catching waves just out of reach. I feel self conscious and preoccupied with getting waves, I’m minimally friendly, a deeper desire wanting more, but that’s not how it goes in reality.

After the last few days I had a glimmer of hope there would be a chance to meet you and become friends with you. That you were interested and on the same page.

But today she told me of the surf report you gave. Yeah you know *so and so* …  she trailed off. Who? My ears perked up. Yeah *so and so*, *a girl*’s other half. My heart sank. Oh yeah, no, maybe, yes I know.

It was almost irrelevant to her story, but I guess it was important for me to hear. I don’t 100% know if we were talking about the same person. But, small town, we likely were.

My heart hurts.

It asks me what I am doing here [my heart].

I thought I was following you I said.

Yeah but you’re not saving any money, you have no boyfriend, and today you are bored.

Bored. The word I wiped from my vocabulary when I was 12. To me it just meant you weren’t interesting enough to do anything interesting. Who wants that.

And now a bit of anger that this heat has brought up. The day feels long, the wind breezy but not cool enough. No one to be interested in. I start to think about what #### said the other day.

I think you have commitment issues, he said in reply to my response on a friendly question asking why I didn’t have a dog. Commitment issues? I’m f*ing living single in Costa Rica listening to my heart tell me it wants to teach yoga when I’m f*ing terrified of speaking to a class. You tell me I have commitment issues. Whatever buddy.

I’m committed to my heart…


… I thought my heart would jump right in and reply, as if it was going to finally, clearly declare what it wants.

But it doesn’t. And now I see I’m just committed to protecting it … encased in it’s fear.

Because who wants more pain and sadness than there already is in this world. Who wants more tears and who wants to be let down over and over again, no one showing up.

I hold it in, I try to stay strong but the tears now flow.

I flashback. Yeah you don’t want a dog, you won’t give that guy a chance …  Yeah, well he’s married I fight back. Ah, yeah, that’s how it goes he remarks. What the f* like it’s a normal thing?

Why can’t I meet anyone else?

I guess there’s the pensive forty-something year old sweet guy…  We’d be a boring couple likely.

My heart doesn’t sing.

And the lighthearted way I felt last week when I had an opportunity for a new love, is now gone. And, once again, my hope is shattered, after #### was convinced I should give him a chance. I mean my secret love, how strange a sign was that. And now this.

My emotions feel ping-ponged around. After I had been planning what I would say at our next encounter. And then caught daydreaming about how it would all go down…

1:11 it now is, and I’ve lost my hope.

I think back to how they say, this life is a lesson in learning how to be content amongst the ups and downs, the happy and the sad. But is that even possible. Is that realistic?

My heart is lost yet again.

And I question, again and again, where was it that I went wrong.

In my mind I hear an echo of my own voice while teaching yoga, you are exactly where you are supposed to be, you are ok, right in this moment.

I jump. Every now and then I hear a startling thud as a mango crashes down from the tree. The monkeys are back feasting on the fruit that’s too high for me to reach. Just out of grasp. Again.

I better shut the doors, I start to think, so they don’t get brave like last week and decide to come into the house looking for more fruit again.

Where did I go wrong and how can I course-correct the trajectory of this life? Even the monkeys are more interesting and successful than me…

0 comments to " Clearing Patterns of Failed Love – p.1 "

Leave a Comment

Site Design and Development North Star Sites