I've done the job thing before. I've done the car thing, too - in several variations. I've done the family thing with every member of my family. I am introspective to a fault, so I usually try to learn from the things that come at me in life. Well, some lessons take longer than others...
There's a lesson I've been learning and yet struggling to understand for what feels like my whole life; in grade school, middle school, high school, college, and now, even in adulthood. I've always had somebody in my life who I'm close with and feel a deep sense of attachment to, like they're "my person", as Grey's Anatomy would have me say. But as time goes on, that person slowly detaches from me. I feel it and start to question if I need them too much, and why they don't feel the same way. I've always wanted someone in my corner, steadfast, and have rarely felt like I've had it long enough or for very long at all.
There's a lesson I've been learning and yet struggling to understand for what feels like my whole life; in grade school, middle school, high school, college, and now, even in adulthood. I've always had somebody in my life who I'm close with and feel a deep sense of attachment to, like they're "my person", as Grey's Anatomy would have me say. But as time goes on, that person slowly detaches from me. I feel it and start to question if I need them too much, and why they don't feel the same way. I've always wanted someone in my corner, steadfast, and have rarely felt like I've had it long enough or for very long at all.
A married friend of mine put it really well when she was talking about how different and difficult it is to be single when others are coupled off: She noted how she has her husband to be utterly devoted to her, and of course she in turn is with him, in everything in life. Us single people don't have that. Maybe that's a part of why Paul says in the bible it's better to not marry, if you can manage (my paraphrase) - no wholly devoted distraction.
I always wanted to have a ride or die best friend. The older I got, the less I've held to that desire. I realized people come and they go, their priorities change. Maybe their tolerances change, I don't know. I became bitter, and then I became comfortable for the first time.
Then came The Relationship. Not only did I have someone in nearly every square inch of my life so to speak, but I felt needed, too. It wasn't just me. Then it wasn't even me...then it was what am I nuts? It was me too. Then it was just me. That place I hate to be in, I was in all over again and the deepest I've ever been. I thought I knew myself better than to end up there, especially with a romantic relationship. I thought I had a good enough read on people, I thought that maybe some more commitment was hiding around the corner - not a rejection. Not a dragging on. A year ago today was a sort of mile-marker in our relationship, for me anyway. I look back with fondness laced with confusion, seeing where we were and wondering how it got this far.
Throughout the last several months, I have seesawed as to what to do with this heavy love in me that had no home, no object. It has been a huge facet of my pain. Recently, as I sat with a friend who had a microscale-version of this experience and witnessed her heavy, saddened heart, I spoke words I needed myself: Love given matters just as much as love received and love reciprocated. As painful as it has been to love someone who is willfully not in my life, I believe it completely still matters. There is some great importance to loving when you expect nothing in return, and also great pain. We all experience rejection a time or two in our life, but I can say with certainty a general rejection holds far less weight than the very depth of love.
It teaches you about the value of loving. A painful way to learn, to be sure, important nonetheless. I can't say for certain because I'm not there [yet?], but I think the next time I have that kind of love I'll cherish it all the more. Until then, maybe I'll spend that love on those around me whom I'm not dating. Maybe all that heartache simply deepened the well from which I draw.
I always wanted to have a ride or die best friend. The older I got, the less I've held to that desire. I realized people come and they go, their priorities change. Maybe their tolerances change, I don't know. I became bitter, and then I became comfortable for the first time.
Then came The Relationship. Not only did I have someone in nearly every square inch of my life so to speak, but I felt needed, too. It wasn't just me. Then it wasn't even me...then it was what am I nuts? It was me too. Then it was just me. That place I hate to be in, I was in all over again and the deepest I've ever been. I thought I knew myself better than to end up there, especially with a romantic relationship. I thought I had a good enough read on people, I thought that maybe some more commitment was hiding around the corner - not a rejection. Not a dragging on. A year ago today was a sort of mile-marker in our relationship, for me anyway. I look back with fondness laced with confusion, seeing where we were and wondering how it got this far.
Throughout the last several months, I have seesawed as to what to do with this heavy love in me that had no home, no object. It has been a huge facet of my pain. Recently, as I sat with a friend who had a microscale-version of this experience and witnessed her heavy, saddened heart, I spoke words I needed myself: Love given matters just as much as love received and love reciprocated. As painful as it has been to love someone who is willfully not in my life, I believe it completely still matters. There is some great importance to loving when you expect nothing in return, and also great pain. We all experience rejection a time or two in our life, but I can say with certainty a general rejection holds far less weight than the very depth of love.
It teaches you about the value of loving. A painful way to learn, to be sure, important nonetheless. I can't say for certain because I'm not there [yet?], but I think the next time I have that kind of love I'll cherish it all the more. Until then, maybe I'll spend that love on those around me whom I'm not dating. Maybe all that heartache simply deepened the well from which I draw.
