I realized the other day that the most important person in my life isn’t actually a part of my life anymore…and that he probably never will be again.
When this first dawned on me, that he really does mean the world to me, I was almost driven to a panic attack. I was terrified because this fact, this undeniable fact, was all wrong. It shouldn’t be like this. I must be crazy. How could someone who I haven’t seen in almost a year, haven’t spoken to in six months, consume my entire being so entirely? How could I possibly care about him this much? How did this happen?
I was utterly and completely distraught. Because this isn’t what I imagined my life to be like; because I didn’t know I could feel so intensely about a person, about a person I really only knew on the surface; because even though I could often times intuitively read beneath that surface, there is so much I never learned about him. How is it even conceivable that this friend turned crush turned love–the boy I joked around with but never took seriously until he one day, out of the blue, took my breath away–how is it even conceivable that he somehow wormed his way into the darkest recesses of my heart, only to become more important to me than my own family, my closest and dearest friends.
How is this possible?
It doesn’t make sense.
I went through a couple hours that day where I was very highly strung. I felt anxious for the better part of twenty-four hours, worrying about this incessantly. Until I realized that I was questioning myself again. And it wasn’t doing me any good.
If there’s anything I’ve learned on this journey, it’s that some things can’t be explained. Sometimes feelings just happen. Our society predisposes us into thinking that such unexplained feelings are crazy, nonsensical. People, women specifically, used to be institutionalized for voicing thoughts very much like my own.
We have been taught for centuries to stay silent about feelings that don’t make sense. And I’m sick and tired of that.
The truth is, I can’t change the way I feel. I can’t push it away. I’ve tried; it doesn’t work. The truth is, if I want any chance of moving forward with my life, I need to accept these feelings in all their intensity, as they come. Pushing them away only makes it worse. The truth is, my mental health is dependent on how I choose to approach these feelings.
Acceptance is the first step in moving forward.
Some days that’s easy to remember. A piece of cake, really.
Others…well, let’s just say on other days that’s easier said than done.
Nobody said life was a piece of cake, though. I guess, if I put my life into perspective, I’d rather be hurting because of unrequitable love than for the numerous other terrible and tragic reasons people hurt in this world. At least I can say I have loved. I have learned so much from working through these feelings and for that I am thankful; I truly believe that I finally understand what love is…and what is life without love? I’m still hurting, but I am also hopeful. Because I know what I’ve learned is invaluable. Unlike a Britta of a year ago, even six months ago, I know that lost love is not synonymous with lost livelihood. This lost love does not define me. It is a part of of me and it has made me stronger, but it does not define me.
Life is a playground, but it takes a lot work.
You better learn to love, or it’ll tear you apart,
cuz in the end, we are measured by the size of our heart,
and we can’t do this alone.
– Cloud Cult, “Good Friend” –