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I don’t know what to call this but it’s my acceptance/letting go story inspired by someone who used to be dear.

Enjoy

The first thing I felt with him was safety. He made me feel so safe, it was a welcomed change. I couldn’t stop talking about him to anyone who wanted to listen and well even those who didn’t.

The next thing i felt with him was a “what if”. Numerous what if this was finally the one that was made for me. It was silly and cute.

Or was it?

I had never done the switch from friends to lovers so I didn’t know what to expect. But damn was my mind blown. It was complicated. It felt like i lost my friend not like i gained something more.

I lied a lot. I rarely find myself in situations where lies were second nature but it was in this one. Now that i think about it, i felt so unsafe and so untrusting of someone who i loved.

In reality, how does that happen?

It doesn’t or does it? I lied so much that my lies felt like truths to me. The lines were so blurred that if whenever i looked at it, i doubted even my truths.

But i had him you know and sincerely that was all that mattered to me. That he was there. Steady and a very beautiful constant.

Next, i felt unloved. I was so tired and so drained. It felt as though each day i was being told I wasn’t good enough. In a way that explains the lies. I wanted to show him that i fit the person he was trying to mold me into.

That i was sane, normal and pretty. If you used to know me, those qualities used to be quite far from the truth.

So i left. And when i left, i had a taste of the exhilarating freedom that comes from leaving. I got to be myself- crazy, weird and free.

But then i came back. Why you ask? Because that crazy girl needed him like she needed air. He was her constant.

Then i left and i came back.

I left again and i finally accepted that he and i were not made to be.

Then he came back and i begged to be let in. He did let me in but it was just for a brief moment and then i was chased out.

Why?

I cannot explain the whys with words as this is my story not theirs.

But boy did it hurt. To have accepted your reality and to be given a taste of your dream just to be chased out.

I cried. I cried so much that i became so accepting of my tears. I understood why i was crying over a random book. I understood why i was crying unprovoked under the rain. I understood why i lost all my motivations but was crying over him and not the future that seemed so weak.

So where those the acceptance come in?

Here it is:

I accept that i have lost something that was never made for me. I accept that it was never mine to begin with and it is okay for me to randomly cry because I missed him. I accept that this is where the story ends.

And the letting go part?

I let him go in every moment. As i write this, i let him go. As I drink his favorite drink which i would never be caught dead drinking before. As i stare into someone’s else eyes and all i see are his. I let go as i hold on to every hand that isn’t his.

If there be any morals to this story (i love that line so much) it is in you to find. As i close this book, i want to promise to never open it but that is not me. I think about every happy moments and i miss them but with no desire to recreate them.

They’re just there for me.