*Prepare yourself...this will be a long one*
Sometimes we meet people, and at inception, you know that the two of you belong together. As lovers, as friends, as a surrogate family, or as some other variant. You might not know the "hows" or "whys," but you know that this person....this person is meant for you.
You two just work.
Together you create. Together you love & laugh & learn.
Together, you are partners in crime.
Together, you are partners in crime.
After meeting, you see little parts of yourself systematically morph, ever so gradually that you don't realize you are different until the changes take hold. You look at your current self and see that the person you were is no longer the person reflected in the mirror. Physically you are the same, but subtle differences can be seen.
Eyes that shine a bit brighter. Scowls are a thing of the past, replaced by *maybe* deeper laugh lines. Posture straightens. Positivity almost seems to radiate from within.
Isn't it funny, then, how that same person who awakens, incites change, can then destroy?
Doubt dulls the eyes. Confusion brings forth frowns. Sadness makes you small. Internal emotional warfare envelops you, creating a dark cloud that is never far from your person.
Ironic isn't it?
I met someone like this, maybe five years ago. I was a different person, had a different life, back then, therefore, the basis of our relationship was purely platonic. The nature of our lives dictated that we went our separate ways and eventually lost touch. Luckily, we were able to reconnect earlier this year, and I was overjoyed to continue our interrupted friendship.
We just worked.
We share a similar fucked up sense of humor. Our personalities compliment one another. I respect him as a man for the choices he has made and for what he offers to his community, family & friends. He possesses maturity, but has never lost the ability to be a little silly. He harbors no ill will toward children. He has character, morals, and a sense of self.
He is also a giant pain in my ass
This is all my best friend's fault...yep, totally putting all the blame on you. I guess she felt that I had spent enough time grieving my failed marriage, and urged me to:
1. Get my shit together
2. Get my shit together some more because, knowing me, she knew I did a half-assed job on completing #1
3. Move the fuck on
I think she knew I was living a half-life of sorts. One half was haunted by the past, and the other half was looking with hope toward the future. So her brilliant plan was this: Hint to both of us how "good" we would be together because of our similarities. I was resistant due to my emotional situation but didn't refuse because we were friends once...I wanted to reclaim that friendship, I had no expectations for anything romantic. He seemed to also feel the same because we did start a dialogue...text messages, phone calls, FaceBook interactions.
Somewhere along the way I began to smile more. Somewhere along the way I found myself happier. Somewhere along the way I began to live again instead of just existing in a state of apathy. Laughter came more frequently. I joked with and teased loved ones more. My newly reinvigorated attitude influenced so many aspects of my life; I stopped living within my mind so much...I emerged and began interacting with people more.
Somewhere along the way I fell for him, and that was very dangerous turn of events.
Dangerous because he made me believe in the impossible again.
Was he solely responsible for the change? No. He did, however, play a part. He, in addition to others, was instrumental in cracking the ugly, dark walls I was confining myself in. I was drowning in self-induced loathing, and they were a lifeline...whether he, or the others, knew it at the time. With that help, I took the first of many steps toward self-actualization.
And, just as quickly as his reemergence was, he disappeared.
His presence in my life ceased.
His presence in my life ceased.
I was taken by complete surprise you see...never had any inclination that he would suddenly just stop talking to me, stop responding to texts, just stop all communication like I didn't exist anymore.
What a dick right?! I may have uttered that a few times....
Well, I got some bullshit explanation from him many weeks later. His job kept him busy...which I can believe, BUT I have a strong opinion on the excuse "been busy," but I understood given the nature of his job. Gave me some metaphor about his life being a roller coaster and I didn't hang on tight enough...yeah, alrighty then, so not going to go there.
The truth is....I got the brush off. I got some bullshit half-truth instead of full disclosure.
It hurt. Still does in fact. I hesitantly say, but not at all embarrassed to say, he crosses my mind daily. I mostly think, How could I have misjudged the situation/him so badly? And, Why the fuck is some part of me still holding on...still thinking about him when he clearly doesn't give a shit, when I, nor our friendship, clearly does not mean much?
But that's the thing right?! We all have experienced, at some point, the inability to
Just. Stop.
Just. Stop.
I know when to stop. I know when to let things go. I know when to move on.
But, I know is different from I can.
There are two reasons, in my opinion, for people coming into your life, blessings or lessons.
Which one was he?
Blessing Aspect: I was vulnerable, hurting, full of self-doubt when we reconnected. He helped me find laughter again. Not that polite chuckling shit. That pure, honest kind of laughter-the kind that heals. He helped me to re-knit my playful personality. He helped me find me again.
Lesson Aspect: He helped to remind me that people are rarely who you think they are; You must be cautiously optimistic. He helped to remind me that not everyone can be held to my expectations because it is unfair to expect people to conduct themselves like I would in any given situation. He helped to remind me, that as amazing as I am, I will never be enough for a man that isn't ready...I must come to accept all that I am is enough for me.
I am resigned to say that we were in fact meant for each other, in a most heart-aching, sorrowful way. Was it fate? Coincidence? Sheer dumb luck? I do not think the ulterior motivation really matters anymore, and I'm ok with that. All I do know is that I met him for a reason that took years to play-out, years to come to fruition.
That reason was he was meant to be both a blessing and teach a lesson.
In the end, I owe him my gratitude.
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