For the last few days I've talked to you, and I've talked to you about you. Well, not necessarily about you, but about things that could possibly help you progress as a human being or heal your heart, and I've talked to you about things that have bettered me.
Tonight I'm going to talk about myself, as I will do regularly. I'm going to talk to you about myself, because "myself" hasn't been in the greatest place in the world for the last six months. I'm not depressed, and I'm not suicidal, but I'm just going to talk, because something needs to hear about my soul's issues and the conclusions I've come to lately. Somebody who won't judge. It is here that I feel the need to say again that I don't give a shit about what you think. I'm just talking. I don't want your advice, and I don't want your pity. Words of encouragement are welcomed, but otherwise I don't really care what you say. This is my mind, my world, my blog, and I'm going to do it my way.
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I left my old life behind today. Today I said that I didn't care, and that I was erasing it, and that I will finally leave the past in the past. Where it belongs.
The reason behind that goes with a story, and that story doesn't begin with a, "once upon a time," it begins with a, "truth be told."
Truth be told, I got my heart broken last year. Yes. You know that. But it's time to let that go. I am too good of a person to let myself wallow in self-pity and hatred and continue worrying about losing myself to nothing but the wind. Because, I admit, all this time I've been worried about losing myself and I finally lost her. I haven't felt like myself in years. A couple of heartbreaks, a life full of lies and a few worse-than-normal lies stuffed into a set of around three years...I let myself go.
I used to be this badass chick who knew everything. I still kind of am >insert laugh<. I knew what I knew and I knew it well. I knew who and what I wanted to be. I knew who I wanted to love in the future. I knew the kind of friends that I wanted to have in my life. I knew my future career, the way I'd raise my kids (if I ever had any), and the way I wanted to love my man. I knew how to do everything the right way. Back then, I had a religion. I would pray every night for God to bring me my soul mate. If he ever gave me anything or did anything for me, I asked that it would be that, and I asked that I'd be able to keep him my entire life. You see, I've always had a fear of losing things. An extremely crippling fear, so that always makes it in there somewhere. At least in my past.
That fear is still there now, but it's just a tickle that I overcome easily. Instead, it has been replaced, and it has been replaced by a new fear that I still battle with daily. I have slain one dragon only to find myself facing another. I believe that is the way life is—a journey of dragons. Never particularly a single destination of a single dragon to be slain, but a list of many that must die...or, rather, a list written in invisible ink, since we never do know the appearance of the next dragon we will fight. It could be golden like the last one, or tie dye for all we know. That's what I think. And I think we just have to keep battling day after day until our time comes and we are allowed rest—whatever that rest may be.
Anyway, my new fear is this: gaining anything. I think it's come from figuring out that if I never gain anything I never have to lose anything. People can't want to steal things they don't know exist, right? And you cannot lose things you've never found. It's there...but somehow less daunting than the last dragon I battled. It's still fucking daunting, but I've already faced one dragon...so I have a little more defense against this one. I know what armor works, what swords penetrate flesh, and which fuels incinerate dragon scales. Now all I have to do is use those things.
—I started this rant talking about how badass I used to be. Yes. There was a time when nothing phased me. I'm finally regaining that armor. I had let people take it away...well, not let...no. You never "let" anybody take you down. No. It starts somewhere. Like the first rock chip on a brand new car's window. Eventually the window will crack if you leave it long enough without repair. That's what happened to me. I let one acid lie get under my skin, and eventually it burnt the rest off.
The first lie came from a bully in middle school, the last from a boy's mouth swearing faulty "forevers" and sweet "I love you's." The "I love you's" weren't lies, and the forevers weren't at the time, but the ending destroyed me. He built me up and then I fell down when I realized my castle was built on a foundation of clouds that I'd neglected to make concrete somewhere along the way.
Something I realized recently, however, that finally healed my heart, and finally gave me back myself was that the boy was just another crack on my life's windshield. Not a particularly big one (that's a lie, he was big, but he shouldn't have been enough to break a person like me), but he was enough to stress the old cracks enough to shatter the entire pane of glass. It took me until today to realize that it wasn't just him. I'd lost myself long ago when I started trying to ignore myself—I'd lost myself when I slowly started fighting. It wasn't all him, and I'd been blaming all my heartbreak on that one single incident. I think...had I been in a better place in my life...I never even would have met him. Had I been in a better place in my life, I wouldn't have taken it so hard when I lost him. I am in a better place now. On shaky feet, but I am in a better place.
Recently, my mother keeps telling me that I need a new boyfriend. I keep telling her to shut up. I don't need one. I've finally just realized why I loved the old one so much. She keeps telling me that she loved how happy I was when I had him, and yes...I was ecstatically happy...but that can be repeated without a boy by my side. I'm tired of looking for boys. I'm tired of basing my life's worth off of whether or not I'm going out with somebody. I'm a girl. And the strong woman inside of me knows that I'm only strong because I've learned to stand on my own two feet. Alone.
You're probably sitting there thinking this post is the most random thing you've ever read...and it probably is. Wasn't meant to make sense to anybody but me. You may also be wondering what I figured out about why I loved that boy so much.
It's because he came into my life and was the best thing I've had in the dark hole of shit that I let others (and my own self) build for myself over the last few years. He was a light in an ocean of darkness. A single glowing match. I mistook him for the sun. I'll always have a part of me that loves him...you always love your first love...but now I know I can go on. I'm done thinking he was the best I'll ever find. Done thinking that he was a rainbow instead of the thunder before the storm truly responsible for the end colors. I'm done thinking that he was the one to hold me forever instead of the boy who (sadly) was in the wrong place at the right time with a hand strong enough to grasp mine while I used it to pull myself up out of the muck. I could've been happy with him, but, for some reason, God saw fit not to let me have this one.
There're 6.9 billion people in the world. There's somebody else.
What broke me was the life before him. What broke me was letting myself go and losing my passions. I've finally started reviving my dreams and hopes.
I'll be okay now.
This has been A Little Lonely Wisdom from,
Somebody A Little Lonely
"Count your blessings. Once you realize how valuable you are and how much you have going for you, the smiles will return, the sun will break out, the music will play, and you will finally be able to move forward the life that God intended for you with grace, strength, courage, and confidence." ~Og Mandino
"A relationship, I think, is like a shark, you know? It has to constantly move forward or it dies. And I think what we got on our hands is a dead shark." ~Woody Allen
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