There are wounds that heal with time and tending. And then there is permanent damage. The kind of reckoning that the accident, the fall, the injury left you with permanent damage.

I woke up today with that deep sense of knowing that some of what Erik’s suicide left me with isn’t just the scars of grief and widowhood. There is lasting permanent damage that will be invisible to everyone but me. That may have been implied given the tragic circumstances, but I kind of believed that I would just be normal again someday.

Therapy…lots and lots of therapy… helped me understand that recovery happens in relationships as we practice connection again with other people. I know I am making progress in my recovery, and I may never be fully healed.

I met a great guy last month who has a big heart for people like me. And I did it…progress! I trusted myself and my own feelings. I let him see me. The real me. Even the me who overthinks and overshares and cries and laughs at the same time. I opened my heart just a little bit. He shined his light in there and saw the damage and he still called me beautiful.

For many people, that would be the Hallmark movie script or the obvious beginning of their love story. And it is a love story. It just isn’t a story about a couple who found each other after a personal tragedy and lived happily ever after. Instead it is about a love story with myself.

I proved to myself that I am capable of trust and the vulnerability of connection. I cannot hold it for long because I retreat into myself for safety and space. It is my permanent injury that calls me back from the risky ledge of vulnerability.

But I was able to see over it this time and regard the beauty of what’s over there with someone who is healthy and healed. I glimpsed what is possible.

I am just not ready to stay there, it’s too much when my whole existence still feels like too much. I still feel like too much because I have a ghost that sits in every corner of my heart.

And while he is my permanent damage, I proved I can still move with him and make progress. For now, that is my love story. I cracked the door open and no one hurt me or lied to me or left me with unanswered questions.

So, I have a gentleman from Tennessee now who will be sending me love and light across the miles. What a gift! He will think of me when he sees an espresso martini on the menu and smile. We may not have a long-term (long distance) relationship, but he will have a long-lasting impact on me forever.

And he proved me wrong about myself because I think I said on my podcast recently that I was not “wantable” and I might not ever be able to receive love again. That is no longer a story I can tell. And that is where the love story will stay for now. Unfinished but not written on wasted paper.