Have you ever been asked to step away from something that you're not yet finished with? It leaves you at loose ends, feeling unfinished. And it can unravel you if you let it. Especially if it's a person with whom you have a significant tie.
You cannot make someone come to you, or talk to you, or even acknowledge you if they don't want to (or if they feel uneasy about it). Even if you believe you could ease them. Even if you want to assure them that it's not a bad thing to communicate under any circumstances.
It's these times, that I have to stop and take a breath and remember...time is a wonderful leveler. Time will bring us back to the core of what brought us together and we will come back to the beginning once the wounds have healed and perspective is gained and we are more grounded in ourselves.
Bottom line, I may think I want to talk with someone (and I do), but if they are not in a place to do that and I ask them to anyway, what do I gain? I have a conversation with someone who is not invested in being or talking with me. And isn't what I really want is for them to freely come to me because they want to?
So, I wait (which is not one of my strong points), and I remember that I live my life at lighting speed; moving through crisis to insight faster than most; pursuing every endeavor to the nth degree - simultaneously.
I learn fast and I live fast. I don't waste a lot of time. My style is intense. I know for a fact that I get more done in a day than most people do in a week. And this it true for me emotionally as well. I move through the process of processing and coming to insights faster than most. I learn from my mistakes, make changes immediately to accommodate the new information, and incorporate that into my life -- always remembering my core belief that if I'm true to myself, anything is possible.
It's not my fault that I'm quick. And although it's afforded me many wondrous experiences (I've traveled far and wide; had numerous careers; collected more men and more friends than anyone else I know), it can be difficult when the world generally moves slower. And when those I care for are thrown by my pace - or by my (unintentional) expectation that they are as fast as me at moving to the end...where we talk again.
...so I ground myself in my creativity which feeds my spirit. I pursue being exactly who I am in every moment (even if others don't like it), and I remember that if I live truly in the moment, I will have everything I always wanted, even things I didn't know.
...and I communicate with the only tool I have besides an actual conversation, I write. And hope that those I'm talking to are listening and know that I'm talking directly to them. And I wait, and I dream, and I trust, and I live and I cry and I laugh...I'm very busy waiting.
…and I remember that our best times were the times we came together freely without limits set on how or when that could be. So I try (in my small way) to recreate that, by not putting limits on how or when we'll talk again.
And although I have a knack of pushing people to do more than they see themselves as capable of, or feel comfortable with (because I'm unafraid to challenge people to think differently or try something anyway), I've found that this quality sometimes needs to be set aside in order to give someone time to catch up.