Bridges burn. Tables turn. You live and learn.

These are thoughts from what feels ages ago. It has taken some time to able myself to sit down and comprehend what had went wrong in a relationship where I thought I was happy. But apparently everything is not what it seems. This is not meant to be a sad post. These were my words to a man I thought I would be with for some time. But, like most things in life we know, all things will dissapear one day. What we must remember is nothing is terminal, everything is transitional.

I was broken-hearted over somebody falling out of love with me. And that same somebody walking past me now like I am a stranger, having already moved on to another. I expected (yes the mother of all fuck-ups, expectation) to be treated with some regard of emotional remorse, but we learn how we clearly fell in love with heartless people.  See, I have mostly been a constant in people’s lives, I try my hardest to be. And for whatever the circumstance it was always my decision to end things if I decided to do so. This time, having someone you lent your heart, body and soul to, discard you and your emotions, is a tough struggle to come to terms with. Nonetheless my smile is real, my heart still warm and my soul still full of hope in the second love that will come around. Because ironically, as the very person who was my first love, and first heart-breaker said, ‘Fuck first love, It’s the second love that comes around that deserves a round of applause for making us believe in love again, and makes us see just how good we can have it.’

I will in the near future write about the memories I have, and the way I have them painted are beautiful. And all that is left to do with them is share. Because I would be lieing if I said I don’t recall them from time to time… And unlike the now cold, emotionally vacant person I once loved, I learn that I am nothing like him.


 

words from a broken-heart:

I’ve been seeking some conclusions in all of this confusion. There is some other warm blow that’s got us both feeling a certain way.

I keep asking myself what happened here, but for now it is not the place to be pondering on questions… Let us be patient, let us be kind. And balanced. We will be together sometime soon, even though in a different kind of way – this was your decision, however. We did not decide on that together.

When we see each other again, we will be welcomed with a re-start. Until then, I do recall you once saying to me that ‘true friends are as rare as genuine art, and that you have the last masterpiece’. May we continue then with this masterpiece, by selecting only the richest colours to keep painting.  Once upon a time we were just friends before we ventured into a relationship. I recall many texts, and hours of conversation. Perhaps it is a blessing in disguise, a time to rekindle the friendship. And build a better foundation.

I have had a lot of time to go over this all. And regardless of there being some clouded judgement due to a real kind of love that I thought we had, I am trying to do this your way. You seem very emotionally distant. I am still trying to understand how a lover who opened himself to meet the family of his loved one, shared an quantifiable amount of love between the two of them, could find it so easy to back out.

You say you were starting to feel ‘strange’. Now I simply wonder, how it could be that a person who is made of ‘passion, determination and resilience’, could not apply this to the one he said he loved? I would have like to think that when you love someone, you will fight for them. Even if fighting for them very well means, fighting. But that is just me. And my downfall was perhaps, expecting that the one I loved, would share the same sentiment.

Truth is, I do not know a hell of a lot about relationships, but I do know something about love. At least, I thought I did. because if we had the love I thought we did, surely we could have tried to tap out the small fire, and burn again with a different kind of spark.  We shared the same view of a relationship; two parallel lines, each one respecting and supporting where the other comes from, finds themselves, and where it they want to go. But at the same time, sharing a mutual love. What has hurt me, is feeling like I have been dragged along in your play. It was your act, and when you feel its time for the show to be over, you take a bow. We always understood the amount to where one has to be selfish, but you showed a different kind. There seems not have been one ounce of regard for me, for the home you actively participated in creating.

I am starting to think that this has been your plan all along. Knowing how tough this year would be for both of us academically, you used my insecurities as an escape. I might be wrong. Then again, it is a difficult thing for me to understand any of this, for I am the one being cast aside. I would have gladly, passionately, travelled on our parallel lines, and when time was on our side, delve into the love side. You were my companion, firstly. A friend to share future antics with. The love was a kind of a bonus, an extra that pleased, and filled some of the cracks that the other things never will be able to.

But that’s just some of my thoughts. For a very long time I was used to the men in my life doing one thing: loving me, sure. But not choosing me. Choice. That is the thing. And I might have failed at being what you expected of me in the relationship, but I can say that my love would have always conquered, and never forsaken. I can compartmentalize my passion for the future, my passion for my relationships, and the passion for the other compartments holding stock in my life. I never lost focus. Because I know that at the end of the day, when classes are done, assignments handed in… There was a time for love. To be. And to share. Could it be that we didn’t share this?

I send these mails with a heart cracked by the love taken away from me, or rather, walking away from me. But I am also sending this, with the metaphor we used, with only the brightest colours for a new painting. Problems persist when we try to fix the blame. I am exchanging no blame. We have always cherished the way the other thinks. May this continue…

When I arrive, and we see one another, are we two people consciously trying to mend a relationship, or as people carrying on with a friendship? You determined the end of a relationship, I am not putting myself through hoping, wondering about what can be. We both know what was.

Love, Always.

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One thought on “Bridges burn. Tables turn. You live and learn.

  1. Pingback: The coldest story ever told. | The Splendid Solitaire

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