Tuesday, February 23, 2016

I'm Still Alive

I had to take a break from writing. Part of the issue was I felt like I was just giving different words to the same sadness and I found it uninteresting. Also, I felt like this blog was no longer a safe space for me and I needed some time to reflect. To grow. To try and let go.

I’ve learned a lot of things in the last few weeks.

I‘ve reconnected with friends and started doing the things I’ve always liked to do. I’ve been eating at new restaurants and even went to a movie this weekend. I started a few projects around the house and have spent more time with Holden. Whether or not I still wonder if things were supposed to end the way they did, there is no denying that I wasn’t my best self the last few months. Recognizing that I wasn’t with partner who made me feel supported or like I was free to be myself was an important revelation. As much as it may hurt, some people are just not the best people for us. This isn't anyone's personal failing. It's just the way it goes.

So I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to figure out who I want to be and how I want to live. Freedom is a gift. As much as we may turn from it or try to deny it, freedom is an opportunity. Yes, it is often scary. Opportunity for success is also an opportunity for failure. But more than that, it is necessary. Without it there is no chance for growth.

I’ve also rediscovered that there are things I value about being alone. One, I don't have to talk to someone all the time. I didn't realize how draining it was to be in such constant contact with someone. At first it was really hard, but now I value my solace. I appreciate being with myself again in a way that having a lover compromises. I can disappear for days and don’t have to justify it to anyone. I didn’t realize how much I missed that. It’s been a relief if I’m being really honest.

I've been freed from the monotony of someone else's life and I belong deeply to myself again.

So many people are scared of being alone. They jump from person to person and wonder why they never find what they're looking for. I'm not like that. I like being alone. I can be open to meeting new people and experiencing new situations. I can be loud and adventurous and not have to feel guilty about it. I get to remember what it feels like to get excited when I meet someone new. That thrill of finding another soul who somehow connects with mine (it doesn’t always have to be romantic either) and that is not a small thing. I may not know a lot of things, but I know I want to be loved in a way where I still feel free. Instead I found myself settling for a love rooted in dishonesty and insecurity.

I don't want to talk about plans. I want to do things.

When I am honest with myself I can say I don’t want cheesy facebook photos and mediocrity in love. I don't want to wake up one day and realize that my partner feels more like a roommate than a lover and we have only the memories of better days to keep us warm. I want something more than that. I don't want someone who is scared they're too boring. Instead I want someone who is confident and bold and who knows I won't be bored, even while we do boring things. I want someone who inspires me to be more. Someone who challenges me and makes me want to be better. I see now that the life I envision for myself, one of laughter and joy and adventure, isn’t one I was being offered.

And that’s okay.

I won’t pretend I don’t still feel like there’s this big hole in my life, but I am learning how to come to terms with that. I have regained a lot of my self-esteem and I know a person who doesn’t miss me isn’t worth being missed. So I will keep the door of friendship open out of love and respect, but I won’t beg or try to drag someone through it. The bonds we have with people break every day and I refuse to waste another moment mourning a person who would willingly sever that bond.

It’s just not worth it.

So once again I see this long white expanse of the empty page before me. Just as always I will fill those blank pages with color. The color of laughter. Of love. Of hope. And maybe, just maybe, I will find something more wonderful to write about than I ever could have imagined. In a weird way there's a freedom in being hurt so deeply. Because I know, no matter what, that what lies before me is better than what lies behind me. In a way I'm not sure I ever truly understood before.

I’m not really sure where I am going with this. I guess I just wanted to let the one random person who reads this god awful blog know that I am okay. More than that though, I have been given the freedom to be more than okay. And I won’t waste it.

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