Another Letter To Karina

Dear Karina,

It has been three years since I woke up without you here for the first time. Three years since I heard your voice, melted into your touch, felt the unconditional love through your gave. I feel like I’ve gone through a time warp. It doesn’t seem real, the seven years we spent together, to commit our lives to each other, then to never see you again. So much has happened since we met ten years ago. And so much has happened since you left.

That last night, as I did on the eve of my mother’s passing, I promised that I would make you proud of how I lived my life without you. I promised that your death would not destroy me, but would inspire an even greater life; that is what you would have wanted. Your departure sparked a transformative journey and has changed me forever. 

I feel like a different person than I used to be. The cells in my body, the chemistry of my brain, the expression of my DNA have all shifted since you left. There are things that I know now, ways that I live, abilities that I have, that I wasn’t able to share with you. I didn’t have them yet. Your death set me on the path to find them, for which I am so grateful, but also so sad you never got to see me like this.

In these years, I learned how to communicate my truth honestly. I wish I could have better described to you how I am and how I feel in this world. I was afraid and ashamed to share some parts of myself. I didn’t have the courage or the language to do so. I thought, if you saw the parts of me that I was ashamed of, you would leave me. I never allowed you to hold space for me; I didn’t think that was even a thing that a partner could do. 

In these years, I learned how to be a man. You got to see the beginning of this transformation because you sparked it. When you got sick, you ignited something in me that would stop at nothing to care for you. You, the one who spent so much of her love and energy taking care of others, needed help, and I was there for you in every moment, good and bad, until the last. I didn’t know I had that in me; you showed me I did in your final act on this plane. 

But you didn’t get to see how I evolved. Through your death, I became a man and spent the next several years figuring out what that means and how that is expressed in my daily life. I don’t have it all figured out, but I am a hell of a lot farther along. I wish I could show you now. I have spent much of this year forgiving myself for not knowing better when we were together, and appreciating your inspiration to keep expanding. 

There is a truth that I learned this year: Every relationship is preparation for the next relationship. Whether one day, 7 years, or 40 years, every connection offers tools, insights, and experiences that can make the next one better. Sometimes, these lessons are pleasant, and often, they are unpleasant. Our 7 years together were full of love and plenty of friction. It transformed me into a person almost unrecognizable from who I was before I met you. 

Before you, I hated myself, cursed the world for my hardships, and played victim to my misfortunes. Your life taught me to love myself and let go of the things I couldn’t control. You taught me to find love and gratitude in my life, to take three deep breaths when my emotions took control, to always tune in to how I felt. Your death taught me the beauty of each moment, the impermanence of all things, the value of love and connection to others. Your death led me to the fires of agony, which I later learned was the key to unlocking a bliss and joy that I never knew existed. 

Now, I love myself. I am the creator of my own life. I have an internal guidance system that I can trust. My work is inspired. I am aware of how outside forces can influence my mind and emotional state, and I have the tools to navigate back to myself. I take breaks when I need to. I set boundaries and hold them. I stopped judging people for living differently. I realized that we are all hurting, all of us, every single one, and in doing so accessed a level of compassion I never knew I had. 

Sure, I still have those days when I wake up and curse the world, get overrun with anxiety, feel disconnected from everyone and everything, and run away from it all. That happens too, but less and less. 

When you died 3 years ago, a multitude of people told me that “time heals all.” I didn’t agree, and I still don’t. Time has not healed me because I was never broken. The pain I felt, the suffering, and the grief were all a reflection of the love that we shared for so many years. It was beautiful. Accessing this grief is my superpower. In times of need, the depth I can feel when I jump into the deep end of grief reminds me of what is real and what is not. 

Time is merely a container. As the days click by, the container, through life experiences, expands. The grief remains as a reflection of love that will never go away, but it swirls with all the other feelings of life.

For the first year, your death was top of mind for me and everyone around me. We grieved together as a community. The love and support was tangible. By the second year, those less close to you moved on, leaving only us, your family and closest friends, alone in our daily struggle to come to terms with your death. 

And now, 3 years out. I don’t see your family and friends as often as I used to. Many of the people that you mentored at my business have moved on. Most people that I associate with daily never even knew you. The aspect of me that still grieves your loss is only really seen by my partner. And thank God for her. It has become abundantly evident that you brought her to me; there is no longer any doubt in my mind. 

You were extraordinary, and knew I needed an extraordinary woman to carry forward in my life. I needed another oddball like you. I needed someone who saw the world through the lens of energy, expansion, and Love. I needed someone who could hold space for me to love you forever, someone who could love you with me, someone who could share in my grief. I needed someone who could allow me to be me, fully and completely, loving the best and the worst versions of me equally. 

In her, I found that person. And we thank you.

I know, in truth, that you didn’t miss out on the version of me that has leveled up from when we were together. It is only my ego that wants to feel your pride and hear your words of affirmation. I know that you see me now. I know that you’ve been guiding me to the experiences I needed for my continued evolution. You’ve shown me over and over that you are still here. At times, I can feel you, as I did last night as I cried and burned in the fire of the memories from three years ago, as I do now sitting here writing this to you. 

It is as if you are sitting here with me, allowing me to tell you how I feel, even though you already know. I can feel your pride. I can feel your love. I am, and forever will be, grateful for you and who you helped me to become. You are never forgotten, always an inspiration for me and everyone around me. It is with you that I continue, day by day, Onwards and Upwards.

With Infinite Love,

Your Hart

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