It can take quite awhile for a heart to mend. I’m speaking figuratively, but it’s literally true too.
The Buddha told us that heartbreak is a symptom of clinging, craving, and—ultimately—ignorance of our True Nature. But that’s all cold comfort when you’re in the thick of it. You can’t be rational with the heart. The only thing that can sway feelings are time and other feelings. Logic is irrelevant.
Practice helps—the methods help. They can let us watch thoughts and feelings without being consumed by them. Or if we are consumed by them, we’re at least aware that we’re consumed. If you’re aware that you’re consumed, then you’re not really consumed. It’s like if someone realizes that they’re dreaming; the part of them that realized that is awake.
Relationships are rough for me because I have an astonishing memory; that’s what gives me the illusion of intelligence. And when I’m with someone I love, I try to keep everything I can, to make mental notes. Even now, months later, I can recall the smallest moments. You know the ones. Those arbitrary experiences that somehow seem so significant, so wonderful.
So it isn’t that I’m forgetting, but that the memories are becoming more remote from the present moment. Like a dead drop of cash someone leaves in a barrel before traveling five States away. It’s out there still, they know it is, but it’s distant.
Now I’m writing again, and returning full force to Dharma practice. It can still be touch and go at times, but maybe I’m starting to move forward. I don’t regret anything, even though it caused me a lot of pain and confusion. I learned a lot, and in the end, that’s what I’m truly passionate about.