I probably shouldn’t be writing anything right now, but I’d like to record a few things while they’re fueled by confusion and sadness.
A set of Magic: the Gathering cards came out in May 2012 called Avacyn Restored. In this fantasy universe, Avacyn is the Angel of Hope. No one had seen Avacyn in a long time, and the people were beginning to think she would never come back. Almost all hope was lost on the plane of Innistrad, where its denizens were under siege by zombies, werewolves, and vampires. Everyone renounced their faith in Avacyn. It was their darkest hour. Then, by a freak accident, an ancient stone called the Helvault cracked open and Avacyn was released. She smote the monsters and brought light back to the people.
I had a ritual where I cracked open packs of this Avacyn Restored set hoping to find Avacyn’s card. I never did. I always tried; every time this set of cards was available for sale, I bought some. Avacyn never appeared. I lost hope in the Angel of Hope.
I changed my life significantly recently. I quit my job where I was a significant mind in a burgeoning technology. I said goodbye to the best manager and team I will ever have. I left my delightful and accepting friends, who threw me a going away party where I literally danced all night. I was just starting to get to know some of them.
I moved to be closer to family, and I’m glad I am closer to them now. Two new ones were just born, and even though they had trouble breathing at the start, they seem to be improving. My grandfather is not improving. He is in his last flickering days before his flame goes out. I knew I had to be around to draw whatever warmth I could from the end of the wick. It is bittersweet to be here.
I had a hope in something else on moving back up here as well. I had a hope that I could be with a very special woman. I can count on my hands the number of people with whom I get into very deep conversations, and she led the pack. When I would leave from seeing her, I could feel the air around my body as my muscles relaxed and my heart took largo beats. I put my heart into expressing how I felt about her. To quote my journal in past tense, “I wrote a motherfucking sonnet.” I said to her I would return, and I hoped she would be around. She said that if I ever made it back up here to give her a call. I thought about her every single day since then. It got to a point where it bothered me that my first thoughts of the day were for her, and there was nothing I could do about it. I hated being 1100 miles away, and knowing that was the only thing making it impossible. I kept thinking of all the places I wanted to go with her, or all the movies to watch with her, or all the ideas I wanted to share with her. Completely changing my life was a scary and difficult process, but I got through it knowing I would see her again.
Tonight she gave me a call. I had just had dinner with her, but she (understandably) couldn’t bring herself to tell me something. She told me that there was someone else, that she didn’t wait for me and something took off with another man. She told me I was “perfect”, but that just makes it more confusing. It’s respectful of her to tell me she didn’t want to lead me on, but that doesn’t change how I feel right now. I am hurt. I am questioning everything I’ve thought over the past five months of intense pining. I am wondering why I put my delicate heart into situations that just shatter it. I am sad and confused and I don’t want to use my voice.
The pack of Avacyn Restored I opened last night did not contain Avacyn. Maybe I’ll find her someday, but for now it’s dark in Innistrad.
Sitting in the dark with my phone as the only light source,
1 thought on “On Losing Hope”
[…] started as raw material capturing the romantic angst and yearning present on earlier entries of this blog. That was potent crude oil. In fact, I read those posts and old journal entries for […]
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