DEFERRED

My heart has been broken more times than I can count.

I am responsible for all of these, except the first time because I could not have known such a thing was possible.

I was fifteen.  Dale was seventeen (considered a significant age difference at the time).  She told me that my intellect belied my years.  She was my equal.  She was my first.  We were in love.

Infidelity did not occur to me.  When we breathe, do we imagine something better than air?  It never crossed my mind.  I had no jealousy or insecurity.  My parents stayed my parents.  My brothers were always my brothers.  The sun rose in The East and set in The West.  And Dale and I only made love to one-another.  Until...

Of course I now know that this shit happens all the time.  I have betrayed and been betrayed numerous times.  It always hurts, but the pain has always been tempered with knowledge of the possibility or expectation or even resignation...

God, I wish that last part were true - that it gets easier.  But becoming accustomed to pain and developing a tolerance to pain are two different things.  And though, over the years, I have developed a tolerance to all sorts of things, heartache is not one of them and I think I know why.

I simply never healed.

Earlier this month I had surgery done on my rotator cuff.  The pain in my shoulder was really bothering me.  The surgeon asked me when this pain started.  She looked at me funny when I told her, "I first noticed it 25 years ago.  It was either a diving injury or motorcycle crash, both of which occurred before I was twenty."

"Well, you're going to feel a lot better in six months.  But why did you wait so long?"

The pain was not that bad in my twenties and it only flared up after a workout at the gym.  Avoiding the gym seemed to solve the problem so I went sporadically and would get into a routine until my shoulder hurt.  Then I'd quit.  As time passed, the activities that triggered the pain increased as did the intensity of the pain.  I couldn't pick up my son, a toddler at the time. When I was taking surfing lessons, I found it impossible to paddle out.  I couldn't swim.  I live on the Westside; how am I supposed to take a yoga class if I can't do it on a fucking paddleboard?

So, I went to the VA and started the process I should have started a long time ago.

Now I'm    h    e    a   l  i  n g   and the pain is more intense and nearly constant.  It is DIFFICULT to imagine that I will be able to put something on a shelf above my head, let alone swim or surf.  I feel like my recovery is a burden on others.  Things need to be done and I can't do them.  I was told emphatically that if I did not allow this injury    t   i   m   e    to  FULLY  heal...

...re-injury.  Is.  Certain.

But I perceive people looking at me like I am just avoiding work (would not be the first time).

What they cannot see is the work that IS being done.  They cannot see it because it is under my skin.  It is within the framework of my joints.  The cartilage and tendons, the muscle and bone, the very parts that animate us.

All I need to do is rest.  Eat.  Drink.  Shower.  Shave.  Say, "Yes." Ask for help and graciously accept it when offered.  Try to be positive.  Get discouraged and move forward anyway.  Let time do its work.  Only do activities which the PT says I'm ready for, because I will feel healed before I am.

If I do all this, somewhere out there where the surf meets the sand (hopefully somewhere where the water is warm) there is a wave waiting to carry me toward shore