I don’t know if there is going to be any lesson at the end of this. I doubt it. I doubt there will be anything poetic, or hopeful or startling about to come out of my mouth. But that’s OK. Because this isn’t for you, this is for me. Today – this has to be for me.
Ever since my life was flipped upside down exactly three weeks ago, I think I’ve been managing pretty well. I’ve been eating. I’ve been smiling. & laughing. and flirting. I’ve been doing everything in my power to feel OK again. And for a lot of the moments, I did. I was happy. I truly thought, “wow, how did I get through this so effectively; so quickly?” And then today happened. I hit a personal record at the gym, and there wasn’t really anybody for me to share it with who actually understood how big of an accomplishment it was. It happened when he went to that wedding (in my dream location) without me. When I realized that our lives are both carrying on in opposite directions, I realized maybe I’m trying to move to fast. I’m running, sprinting, towards this happily ever after I’ve wanted since I was a very little girl. The adorable friends, the coffee dates, the cute handbag, the nice body, the beautiful car, the funny, attractive, boy – I’m chasing after it as if it’s going to slip from my grasp if I don’t. But I’m a huge proponent of Fate, so I have to reel it in. I have to stop running. I have to listen to what everybody is telling me, because they must be right if they’re all saying the same things to me.
I’ve heard it over, and over, and over. “You have to give yourself time.” “You have to grow.” “You won’t be properly loved until you love yourself.” And I was so ignorant to these statements because they’re hard. It’s really hard to be happy on my own. Which is such a contradictory feeling, because I’m certain that I could make you happy. I just can’t be happy without you. What? Not cool. I have to take a step back. I have to not only say, but believe, these independent things I so freely express. I have to be happy cooking tacos for one. I have to own walking into the gym and sharing my progress with only myself. I must revel in the simple fact that I am waking up, instead of hanging onto the hope that I’ll wake up to a text message, or a phone call, or as a thought on a boys mind. I have to truly enjoy the freedom I was unexpectedly given. The freedom to wear whatever I want – be it a ball gown or a romper – to watch whatever I want, and eat & drink & sing whatever I want. And I know there are moments that I am this person. I’m not completely doomed. I don’t spend every waking moment waiting to mean something to somebody else again, but I do spend a great deal of my life that way and that ends today. Now. As I finish up this convincing spectacle, I finish up with the rushing around and the absurdity.
I have to tell myself that it’s OK to feel this way. That losing somebody is a large burden to bear. That sometimes things aren’t going to go well. That sometimes, cookies & ice cream or talking to your mom will be the best part of your day. I have to remember that one or two or 13 bad days do not make a bad life. They’re steps along the journey, and the journey is still beautiful.
I wish myself luck.
ps. I’m still certain I was fated to meet you; watch.