I am a real romantic. I have always dreamed that I would meet the man of my life in a park, or at a bookstore. Maybe even at a bakery.
I fell in love once. And I fell hard. It was romantic, it was love at first sight. Like in many of my favourite movies. But with great love come great expectations, great disappointments. “It’s not you, it’s me”. In that case, it was true. Yet so wrong at the same time.
I fought hard. I was strong. I was there. Every day, every night, every second. I gave everything I could possibly give. Love, time, money. All of me was in that relationship. I did not think it was possible to forget myself. To lose myself. But I did. I lost my confidence, my pride, my self-esteem. My soul. At the time, it seemed worth it. In some ways, I still think it was. I realised that loving someone that much was the most altruistic gift I could offer. Yet the most destructive for me.
It was chaotic. I could not remember how to laugh anymore. I felt dead inside. Each day was a struggle. So why holding on? Why being the worst version of myself? Why accepting to feel miserable? Why accepting self-destruction? I am still trying to find acceptable answers to these questions.
When we left each other, I felt alive again. Relieved. I started to heal, slowly but surely. But soon enough, I was already starting to make the same mistakes, all over again. Falling too soon. Rushing into new relationships. Wanting to be loved. I was so sure that I needed someone. Someone to hold me. Someone to hold on to. Someone to bring back the light in my life. Someone to make me feel whole again.
And then I paused for a moment. I stopped thinking. And it was all clear. I did not need anyone to make me feel special. I did not need anyone to make me feel loved. I did not need anyone else. But me.
I was the answer. I am the answer. I do not need someone to fall in love with me. I need to fall in love with myself again. And in time, everything will be ok.
On the side: Angus and Julia Stone – Heart Break