Is it too early to start contemplating about 2020?
I feel like it's not, of course. But this is a short but somehow very significantly packed year in all of our lives, and the pandemic has affected every single one of us in one way or another, so I think maybe there are still things to happen in the 30+ days to come. Alas, let that not stop me from writing about my favorite topic of all time, and it is something that somehow I have avoided talking about since 2019: love.
I don't know if you know - well, if you're reading this then I suppose that we are very close in real life so you must have known - but in 2019 I had one of the most painful heartbreaks I've ever had in my life. Granted, I don't have that many heartbreaks in the first place, but it was... painful. Almost two years later, I still carry some of that pain right now, as I'm writing this.
Almost two years in, and somehow I can't get over the idea that he's probably one of my greatest loves, and I think all that pain - all of those long nights of not being able to sleep well or breathe easy or get my mind off him - it was mostly because I was afraid that I will not be able to find someone like him again. I will never love again. I've missed that one great love my life could ever get. That it was probably all the love I'll ever get.
And what's more - I never stopped missing him.
But then I have learned, through many tears and breathlessness and drunk nights out and talking about it with everyone who was willing to listen... that I don't have to stop missing him just because for some reason he can't be an active part of my life anymore. I can separate the desire to want to have him in my life, and the fact that I love the person, wherever he is; no matter how much he isn't in my orbit anymore. This way, I can just accept the situation as it is and keep on missing them. I can still hold the love, without any of the side effects.
This year, I lost someone who may or may not love me - but if I'm being brutally honest (and this is my page, so I'm allowed to be if not mandatory) even though I would never admit this... I guess to a certain extent, at least from my side, there was some love there too. Because when he walked away from my life while exercising the hot potato game, I too, was hurt. Did I know that I love him? Well, I did tell my best friend (and this is verbatim) that "...if I only have to think about him the the past month, yes I love him. But that means I'm completely ignoring the fact that the past 11 months, he had been horrible and I never even once think of love or even care about him. And if it didn't do it for me in 11 months, then it's just not gonna happen."
I stood by that still. But do I miss him now? ...yeah. Yeah, I do. And sucks as it is, this time is still better because at least I get to tell him that I actually miss him. And he knows it (although he might also think everybody loves him). The only thing getting in the way?
The person I actually love, and don't want to lose.
You know how there's all of these love stories where someone eventually meet someone they never thought they would ever end up with. Someone who doesn't look, or sound, anything like they ever thought this person would be. Someone who came from the most unexpected place, at the most unexpected time.
And yet, somehow, fills out all of the expectations.
This person is it for me. He made me want to clean up my acts and change the way I live my life - bit by bit, but I do want to get better. Not for him, but because I just appreciate my life more. Knowing that there's someone who loves me for me - and I just don't wanna let this person down. So ultimately try to stop doing whatever I was doing; and start looking at that era as something utterly pathetic. As a result? I'm happier than I've ever been in a long time. Maybe since my last week in Chicago; which was well spent with the first person mentioned in this post.
I have to admit that the happiness is not the same. Not better. Not worse. Not more. Not less. Just different. That last week in Chicago I felt as if there's fireworks all around me. My mind was bursting with happiness and like my skin glowed in the way it never did before. This time, it just simply feels... comfortable. Like nothing too bad could ever happen, and I will never be rejected. Every day of my life just feels like... like a fluffy cushion. Like I'm walking amongst the clouds of clear bright sky.
The only catch? I've never physically met this person.
I know. It's weird. If it wasn't my own experienced I'd think it's dumb, but I have definitely changed my mind about this particular matter. I hope that it means I've grown? I don't know. I guess I'd just like to believe that change is usually good and that we will only grow outside of comfort zone - and this is definitely both of that: a change, and something that is outside of my comfort zone.
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