Thursday, 14 May 2015

Just out of my reach

Growing up, I wasn't the girl that had her wedding planned out, I didn't have this perfect picture of my perfect prince charming drawn out. But I did have my dreams of my happy ever after. My number one dream and hope was that my first love would be my last. See I'm among those that find it hard to trust, and when it comes to relationships I find it hard to let myself be taken in by that beautiful vulnerability that comes with falling deeply in love. So when I found love for the first time in a toxic relationship that hurt the both of us more than it did us any good, I refused to let go though everything inside me screamed at me to do so. He had to be the one I got married to, but that determination battled with the knowledge that that was a road that would lead to misery. Well after about four years of that relationship I finally walked away. I was broken but I knew I would heal eventually. And I did.

Allow me to digress a little here so I can explain something. I'm a person drawn to signs and symbolic that life throws at me. There's a beauty in having the Universe or God toss you "a sign" and seeing life's events just falling into place in tune to that sign, and things suddenly making sense. Anyway, while in that long and complicated break up I had a fortune cookie and for some reason (I don't actively search for those signs) I kept the strip of paper. It read, "the only medicine for a broken heart is love". Now I don't subscribe to the the-best-way-to-get-over-someone-is-to-get-under-someone-else school of thought, and after four years I did not want to get involved in another relationship. So that note didn't really feel like it applied to me, but I kept it. 

Then I found myself swept off my feet and in what seemed to be this perfect relationship, other than the fact that we would soon live on different continents.But my broken heart was healed by that love that was beyond anything I could have imagined. It was truly something beautiful. Two years later it ended. Yet another love that wasn't my last. I would have to fall in love again. But first I needed some time on my own. Six years in two serious relationships that had failed had left me drained. Plus that last break up hit harder than I thought I was capable of being hit.

And then he came along. He reminded me of another of my childhood love-story dreams. A dream where I ended up with a childhood friend. A relationship rooted in innocent childhood friendship, cultivated over the years and allowed to blossom into a partnership that was solid. But it was a relationship that couldn't be, because sometimes life just fucks with you. Sometimes it dangles a carrot in front of your nose just to get you moving but always just out of your reach. And he was just out of my reach. 

This time is different, this time I didn't even get to be with him but I felt like I lost him. This time I have to get over someone I never even had. This time it's not pain from anger and bitterness and heartbreak that needs to be overcome, but thoughts of a future together, thoughts of him throughout the day, thoughts of loving him and being loved by him. Because even though there is the chance that we will rekindle what we once had, even though there is the chance that instead of my first love being my last, my first boyfriend will be my last (which would be an interesting and completely welcome twist to that dream), there is a higher chance that he'll forever be the one who was just out of my reach.

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