Added: Lashayla Thaxton - Date: 06.02.2022 04:57 - Views: 44011 - Clicks: 4168
I met a special someone. It was my first taste of love and I was sheepishly drunk with it. His were eyes I could look into forever, and he had a voice I could hear till the end of time.
It was absolutely frightening. We were colleagues. I unwittingly got involved in his life and eventually found myself wanting to get even more involved. After a period of ambiguous yes-no-maybes, he exited the picture for good. He never wanted to talk about it, or wanted anything to do with me again.
There was a cacophony of voices, concerned friends, self-help books, parental wisdom all cooing, screaming, demanding me to let it go, let him go, move on. They were all voices echoing the same rational advice. Move on. Self-help books and long runs with blaring earphones only gave a brief respite. Reason left me as soon I put the books down. My mind wandered back to the hurts when I stopped running, breathless and ever-desperate. Why linger? It was a horrid state to be in. I really wanted to snap out of that self-absorbed paralysis, but something kept me there.
After six months of marinating in the much celebrated soup of love, loss, and lament, I finally fumbled out of it. There was no under-the-Bodhi-Tree momentous revelation, but rather a gradual learning and realization, Have you lost love anti-climatic, after all the drama. No one is spared from metaphorical bullets, but no one has to stay hurt. It was something I arrived at, a lucky tumble into the clearing. It was a long fumble in the dark. I literally ran miles to get my mind off him—physically moved away from him at work, tried to write him off as I thought he did to me.
But whenever there is a quiet moment, his face comes back with a vengeance.
If that were even remotely possible, the world would be devoid of sappy love songs and affluent shrinks. Yogis mediate their reflexive response to emotions. But at some point, I was finally able to quiet down and face the issue, crumbs and all.
The most ironic thing was that not only was I running away from the problem, I was also running in circles. I was pointlessly replaying events in my head, ceaseless analyzing, obsessively scrutinizing my actions, and wallowing in sappy country music and dessert.
Not only does nothing get solved, nothing else gets done either. I was able to ask myself, and listen for the first time, the first most important question: What am I doing? Life is not cruel when it does not wait. Life always goes on, whether we are in the mood to it or not.
I wanted talk about it with him. I wanted him to tell me, face to face, what went wrong.
I wanted closure. I wanted my pain to be acknowledged. It never occurred to me that he may be having a difficult time, as well. I demanded an answer. I demanded an explanation. I was desperate, became obsessed, and he withdrew entirely.
Of course, he could have handled it in so many alternative ways than silent disengagement. But blaming is not the point. When I stopped feeling bad for myself, I was able to see the effects of my actions on his side and consider his perspective, empathizing with his difficulties. I did. We are all one in pain—we act from pain and make mistakes from pain, and we all deserve forgiveness and kindness. I realize that he only did what he thought was best at that moment. I reacted in the only way I could then.
I saw that he was still that charming individual that I first loved.
But maybe the point is learning not to want to, because those moments were beautiful. Be brave. Be strong in loving and forgiving. Remember what you loved in that person who hurt you. Remember that everybody hurts.
And know for a fact you are stronger, wiser, and more compassionate from your experiences. Photo by jinterwas. Hong Rui is an aspiring illustrator who believes every breath can carry garlicky remnants of lunch and scrummy wafts of compassion. This site is not intended to provide and does not constitute medical, legal, or other professional advice. The content on Tiny Buddha is deed to support, not replace, medical or psychiatric treatment.
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