The One in Which I Deal With Expectations vs Reality. Or: One Woman’s Journey Into a Year of Self-created Stress

Having an imagination is a wonderful thing. It got me through a somewhat lonely childhood, turned me into an avid reader, and a passably good writer. (The latter is still up for debate.) Having an imagination is also a very terrible thing. Having an imagination that has had years of unrealistic portrayals of romance in books, music, movies, and yes, even commercials, is an even worse thing.

That is my imagination.

My imagination has had years, and years, and YEARS of romance saturated influences digging their way in. These influences planted seeds of, often unattainable, portrayals of love in my head that my imagination then watered and cared for diligently, allowing them to grow into visions of how I wanted courtship and declarations of love and proposals and marriage to be. My imagination created beautiful, romantic, eloquent proposals. My imagination created chic, rustic weddings with everyone I know celebrating love into the late hours. My imagination is amalgamation of every “Our big day!” wedding Pinterest board, saccharine rom-com, and tradition we’ve been taught goes along with love and marriage. My imagination is probably not the only one filled with dreams of perfect ivory lace dresses, but that doesn’t make my last year of crazy any less… crazy.

Mr. T and I are going to get married. We’ve known this for quite some time. Our discussions of ‘forever’ came fairly early on and throughout the last year, as our relationship has been tested and strengthened, have only become more of a foregone certainty. One night, about a month in (I told y’all, we hit the together forever stage early), we were at a bar – where ALL important discussions should occur, natch – and we both put it out there. “You’re the one for me.” This is not a direct quote. Remember, we are at a bar, exact wording is a bit fuzzy. But, what wasn’t fuzzy was the agreement that we didn’t need to date forever to figure this out. We were both adults and had been in enough relationships to know yep, this is the one I’m ready to dive into the deep end with. Y’all, I was ELATED. I’m 32 at this point and in a point in my life where I am one million and ten percent ready to have this commitment in my life. I was ready for the wedding, the white picket fence, and the happily ever after. Being in love with someone who was so many of the things I’ve always wanted, and on top of that, ready to move at the same speed as me was enough to set my ‘should we honeymoon in a beach location or in England?’ imagination in motion. I wasn’t quite a woman possessed, but I wasn’t exactly sane either. I was a woman filled with expectations.

My first toe dip into the pool of insanity was Valentine’s weekend. Ewww, gross, who proposes on Valentine’s? So cliché. Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Valentine’s proposals may not exactly be unique, but Mr. T and I were going to be visiting a friend in Sacramento. We had plans to go to vineyards on Valentine’s. Omg. Vineyards. Valentine’s. I’M GETTING ENGAGED! I started making checklists in my head. ‘So if we get engaged in February that’s totally enough time to have the end of September Fall wedding I’ve always dreamed of. We can do engagement photos in the Spring and Fall in London would be perfect!’ This will be the perfect romantic getaway. How could it not happen?!

Well, easily. That’s how it could not happen.

As we were flying back home, sans ring, I told myself it’s fine. And it was. Maybe I had some expectation of a romantic proposal, but we hadn’t really been actively talking about timing of getting married, and, as the non-crazy part of my brain reminded me, we had only been dating for seven months. Sure, we practically lived together and I’d been sporadically dropping hints that I wanted to be Mrs. T, but we’ve got plenty of time, I told myself. Maybe the Fall wedding won’t be in the cards, but maybe that was for the best… because now that means we can have a Spring wedding!

It was probably early April when I further dipped a whole leg into the pool of insanity. We were all settled in our new home and life was really, really good. One day I declared, ‘I think 5/6/17 will be a perfect wedding date.’ Mr. T agreed. Kind of. But also kind of didn’t seem to be paying full attention to me. But I didn’t pay much attention to his not paying attention. No sir. Because I was too busy plotting our new wedding. Swap out Spring engagement pictures for Fall ones, deep purple flowers for a lighter lilac color, and the honeymoon to Paris (because what is better than Springtime in Paris?) and everything can still happen just how I’ve always imagined it. Everything can go exactly how I’ve always planned. If Mr. T would just hurry up and propose already…

We planned a housewarming party for the end of April. Most of my family and a lot of our friends would be there. There would be food and drinks and games. I would find the perfect outfit and be the perfect hostess because surely this was going to be the day he was going to ask me. By now he knows I’ve always thought it was romantic to have friends or family around to share in that moment with you, for them to hear how much you are loved and wanted in someone’s life forever and at the party we’d have a whole house full of them. How could it not happen?!

Well, easily. That’s how it could not happen.

Still, I didn’t let it get to me. The dream wedding I had planned in my head wasn’t for another year, so there was still time for things to go as planned.

The next week we set out to NYC for my 33rd birthday and I belly flopped straight into the pool of insanity. We were going to Jimmy Fallon and seeing a Broadway show and a game at Yankees Stadium. We were going to check out some trendy bars and restaurants and had walks on the High Line and Central Park and across the Brooklyn Bridge planned. It was going to be perfect trip. And by now it wasn’t just me who was thinking I’d come back an engaged women. Friends and family all felt certain of this as well. A vacation and my birthday? How could it not happen?!

Well, easily. That’s how it could not happen.

Except, this time I did let it get to me. We were in a bar (again, because obviously this is where all important discussions should occur) and I made some comment about packing a ring. Mr. T very blatantly told me there was no ring. He was slightly intoxicated at the time, so it didn’t come out in the nicest way. And I was slightly emotional at the time, so I didn’t take it in the best way. I held off for as long as I could, trying and trying to not let everything I’d been expecting since that first discussion of forever nearly nine months ago overwhelm me and send me into a ridiculously unreasonable tantrum. I did pretty well… until we got back to the studio we were staying in. I broke down. I cried and cried and he got frustrated, both of our go to reactions for situations like this, and we finally just went to bed. The rest of the trip was really amazing, but, of course, this was still in the back of my head. But, I didn’t bring it up because how could I tell him what I was upset about? How could I tell him I was upset he wasn’t doing things as I expected he would? That him not doing things as I had imagined made me scared we weren’t on the same page. That the picture in my head I had spent years fostering wasn’t happening how I wanted it to. I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell him those things without him thinking I was absolutely crazy.

Because I was absolutely crazy.

I have a huge problem with things not happening as I’ve imagined and planned for them to. (Refer to my previous post in which I freak out that we’re moving in together but not married or engaged because, once again, that’s not how I’ve always imagined the progression of a relationship happening.) I’m sure I’m not the only person who suffers from this. I’ve spent a lot of time analyzing myself and I know much of this building scenarios in my head and being unreasonably disappointed when those don’t come to fruition is because of my need for control in my life. Planning how events in my life would happen over the years was my way of controlling a life that often felt out of control when I was younger. Imaging how things would be perfect in the future was an easy way to escape periods of my life that were very far from perfect. And it’s hard to break away from those ideas of perfection. Those expectations. It can be difficult to let go and not be in control of how things happen. It’s difficult to not let the expectations make you feel unsatisfied when you compare your life to how you imagined your it would look years ago.

Now, since Mr. T read my posts, I should take the time to, once again, say that I was never disappointed in him not doing things “quickly enough.” We did eventually talk through all of this (although I’m not sure he knew just how crazy and extensive my imaginations were… If I haven’t scared him away yet, I’m pretty sure he can handle it though.) and I tried to give him insight into the deep, dark cave that is my brain. To let him know my mini meltdown wasn’t from disappointment, it was from being faced with the fact that there are things I just can’t control (a lesson I actually learned long ago, but keep relearning over and over again). It was the process of letting go of the ideas my imagination had spent years and years creating. Ideas that were never actually realistic because they never included the most important part – him. Things I planned years ago didn’t factor in how my life would change over the years. How some things that were pinned to my Pinterest board imagination would become less important as the relationship with the person I was ready to spend my life with became more important.

So, it is now August. One year from when we first discussed ‘forever’. We still are not engaged…. Except, we kind of are. There hasn’t been a proposal, there’s no ring, we aren’t “Facebook official”, and things are definitely not going in the order I always expected they would go, but we have a date set. I have a dress. We have a honeymoon. We have a countdown. And most importantly, we have a lot of excitement for our future. And, no, this non-traditional reality is never how I pictured it when those seeds were first planted in my imagination. It’s better. Because it’s now it’s not about making sure things meet those expectations I created years ago. It’s just about me and him and forever.


The One in Which I Worry About How Things Are Supposed To Go

If there’s one thing that can be universally agreed upon it’s that moving is THE. WORST. Literally, I cannot think of one person that enjoys doing it. Even if you have all the money in the world and can buy a bevy of movers, it’s still a miserable chore. But, it’s one of life’s necessities. Moving can get you to new places. Bigger and better places. My next move is exactly that, to bigger and better. A full house (no more upstairs neighbors, FINALLY) with all the porches and pantry space I have dreamed of. And while the act of moving itself does sound miserable, there is something more that is giving me the slightest of anxieties about this upcoming change.

For the very first time I will be living with a significant other.

It feels weird to say, because, in truth, Mr. T and I have been essentially been shacked up at my place for the last six months. But it was still “my place” and he still had his place as well. Now it’s Our Place. The bills are ours, the upkeep is ours, the porches and the pantries… all of it is Ours. Since signing the lease almost three weeks ago I’ve been trying to peg down what about this has been scaring me. It’s not the physical act of living together. If we can share 750 sq feet peacefully and happily, we can certainly live well in double that. It’s not the finances, that part was easily agreed upon even before we found our new home. And it’s not the seriousness of “taking the next step” in our relationship either. We’ve both known for months, about six to be exact, that this is what we wanted. The sharing of space and everyday life. No, the reason behind my jitters is much, much sillier than all of these legitimate concerns.

The reason I’ve never lived with a boyfriend is because in the past, all I’ve had is “boyfriends.” I’ve never been engaged or married and, to me, when putting together a list of how I’d like my life to go when I was younger, I didn’t want to live with someone until there was that commitment, or promise of commitment, of more. Rationally, I know this is really, really dumb. You truly cannot plan for how things will happen in life. I let go of the ‘I’ll be married by 25, kids by 28, etc, etc’ thoughts long ago, because those things happen when they are meant to happen. (And, if I would have gotten married at 25, which, now thinking back, actually was an option to me then, I wouldn’t have been living in Kansas City and at some random dive bar two months after turning 32 to meet Mr. T. So hallelujah, praise yeezus I didn’t follow my “life’s plan.”) So why haven’t I been able to let go of this feeling of ‘this is how a relationship is supposed to go’ mindset?

Largely, it’s fear. It’s fear of officially living with someone, no more ‘well, if we get sick of each other he can just stay at his place for a few nights’ escape plans available to either of us. Not that we ever used that option, but it was always there. Now if he gets sick of me, he’s stuck with me. And if he’s stuck with me when he’s sick of me, he may start to regret living together. See where this anxiety spiral is going? Yep. If we do this, maybe he’ll get sick of us and want out.

But Thalia, if this is truly going to happen, wouldn’t you rather find this out before more of a commitment is made?


Yes, I know, it does sound rational. Test the waters out by living together to see if you really are ready for a more long term commitment of marriage. But my completely irrational brain just doesn’t see it that way. My thinking for when I set up my ‘this is how a relationship is supposed to go’ mindset was that commitment of marriage, or promise of one through engagement, is necessary to living together. That means that you both are already on the same page about spending your lives together. That there is no more ‘wanting out.’ You’re already fully invested in this person and ready to go.

But Thalia, you can still ‘want out’ of an engagement or marriage.

I KNOW, GUYS! As stated more than once previously, my mind IS NOT RATIONAL. It’s just one of those things. Something I’ve spent years envisioning. How do you change a past thought so deeply engrained in yourself when you know it doesn’t serve you well in the present though? I know Mr. T is in it to win it, so to speak. I know he and I are on the same page about our future. At least… most of the time I know that. And that’s where I can’t let go of my ‘this is how a relationship is supposed to go’ thinking. What if he’s not? What if we’re on different pages? What if he never gets to my page? What if just living together is enough of a commitment for him? The what if’s keep me from moving beyond those past believes of how things are supposed to go. They are keeping me from fully being immersed in the excitement of finding a great home to share with a great, great man, and I know I desperately need to let these what if’s and fears go to be able to appreciate this time.

Meeting someone I love deeply, and loves me equally in return, and building a life with them is something my romantic little heart dreamed of for nearly as long as I can remember and I need to remind myself that if the reward of having all of this weren’t so great, there probably would be no what if’s and fears. But this reward is great. It is worth shifting my believes of how I wanted things to happen in the past to have the future I’ve always wanted.

And Finally, It Clicks

I recently read a book entitled It’s Not You: 27 (Wrong) Reasons You’re Single. Okay, whatever, I read most of it. Ugh, OKAY, so I actually only got through three chapters before my kindle loan on it ended. I got sidetracked by a true crime…and by a smutty book (don’t judge!). But really, three chapters was all I needed of It’s Not You. I was excited to read this book. Normally I don’t really go for “self-help” style books, but after hearing nearly every reason in the world on why I might be single (see: Dumb reasons people say you might be single) I decided I needed to be reassured that all those reasons were probably bullshit. Well, the author of this book did just that. She tells you that being too independent, being too needy, wanting it too much, not wanting it enough, etc., ALL OF THAT is all bullshit. HOORAY! Finally someone speaking some sort of sense! Three pages into this and I was like, ‘move over, To Kill A Mockingbird, this is my new favorite book!’ In fact, there are plenty of people who have baggage and are needy, and all the other things people tell you are reasons you aren’t meeting someone, who are in relationships. There are no set right or wrong’s when it comes to who you should be when you want a relationship. HOORAY, I shout to myself again. The book just keeps getting better and better, and I’m still only in the first chapter! But then, she drops in the one reason people are single… you just haven’t met the person you are supposed to meet yet.



That’s all there is? As soon as I read this, I’m irate. The author goes on to say you can look and look for that person. You can go to parties, you can join clubs, you can online date, you can put yourself out there all you want. And you can work on loving yourself, you can work on becoming more independent, you can work on sorting out all your “issues”, you can do all of the things people tell you you should do to be relationship-ready, but you really can’t force the matter because, eventually, you will just meet that person when you meet that person. Well, thank you, oh wise Buddha author lady for all your zen-like advice! I throw the book down and start furiously texting my other single friends and dropping this “revelation” on them. ‘So glad I didn’t actually purchase this book’ I start typing out, ‘Just haven’t met the person you’re supposed to meet yet? Well, THANKS for enlightening me! I mean, I’ve NEVER heard that before. Oh wait, I HAVE!’ Ugh. Like I said, I was irate. A lot of all-caps shouty texts were sent. Why was I so irate, you may ask? Well, because! Because if I just haven’t met the person I’m supposed to meet yet and it will only happen when it’s supposed to happen how can I make it happen already?!

And then, of course, it clicks. I can’t make it happen. Oh. So that’s what she was getting at.

It didn’t really click with me until a few weeks later. I spent a few days in a real huff. Then I spent a few more days focusing on my true crime and my smut to take my mind off the huff I was in. And then, I just kind of got it. Her book isn’t telling you that all the advice people give you, like love yourself first, and become more independent, and work out all your past dating issues, isn’t actually valid advice. It is valid. But, it’s not valid in the sense people typically give it out. Those things won’t make you become more dateable. They won’t magically make you find Mr. Right. If you want to love yourself more, if you want to be more independent, if you want to work out your issues, then do it! But, do it for you. If the real reason that your single is you haven’t met the person you are supposed to meet yet, then don’t put your life on hold waiting for this person.

Of course, it’s highly possible that, as with most self-help style books, I may have gotten all of this from her book (or three chapters I read) because this is what I needed to hear. Maybe, after endless frustrations with dating this last year, this was already in the back of my head, but I just needed to see it written out for me to accept this “it will happen when it’s meant to happen” type of thinking. As a person who is very impatient and who thinks they can make almost anything happen if they just try hard enough and, okay, is somewhat controlling, it is very hard to accept that there are things in this world that I want, that I really want, that aren’t in my control. On the other hand, it is kind of nice accepting this way of thinking. If all the reasons we are typically told we still haven’t found the one yet are wrong then finally I can cut myself a little slack for being a little too scared of being hurt and a little too slow to open up and a little too stubborn.

Realizing all of this has been a pretty huge weight off of my shoulders, but it’s not a cure all. It doesn’t make me anymore patient and stop wishing I’d just meet the person who is going to laugh at and love me for all my terrible puns and awesome pop culture knowledge already, but it does make me stop beating myself up for not having that person in my life yet. There’s no reason for me to change anything about myself (except for the things I want to change for ME!) because eventually, when that person comes along, he’s going to know that I’m a little too scared of being hurt and a little too slow to open up and a little too stubborn, and he’s going to love the shit out of those things.

Over It

I know this is not breaking news, but getting over a crush is not easy. Okay, for some people, people with a mindset and will power far beyond me, it is, and I envy those people. It would be fabulous to be able to say ‘Oh you don’t return my feelings? Well I’m fabulous, so peace out muthafucka, I’m over it!’, but for most of us, it just isn’t that easy. When you’re crushing on someone, whether it’s one of those unrequited, never explored loves, or it’s the person you’ve been dating and are swooning for, but for some reason the swooning goes unreturned, there’s usually good, solid reasons why you are crushing on them. And it’s crazy difficult to make those reasons just disappear no matter how many times you tell yourself it just ain’t gonna work out. I know lately the logic part of my brain is constantly reminding me my crush is no good for me due to the miles that seperate us, oh and that pesky fact that his crush on me seems to be waning, but I still get these flutters when I think about said crush’s perfect mix of manliness, smarts, and sensitivity and his complete lack of chicken legs and his arms that are like whoa and his expert status in the art of throwdown…ohhhh the throwdown. Sorry. I digress. See? It’s not easy! Getting over this crush is not as easy as telling myself I should. Even just writing a few words about him sends my mind into a tizzy! So, if you are like me and aren’t one of those steadfast people who can just say they’re over it and damn if they aren’t over it, then how do you get yourself, well…over it?

I’m sure a logical person would say things like “Go to the gym, those endorphins will get you feeling better in no time.” Or, “Focus on you! Use the time you would spend thinking about this person thinking about yourself and what you can do to improve your life.” Or even, “Focus on others. Get out there and volunteer!” And, yes, these are all great suggestions. For logical people. Me? Most times, I’m not so logical. So far the best, albeit non-logical, advice I’ve heard is this; “The easiest way to get over a crush is to picture them on rollerblades.” FANTASTIC! Why have I never thought of this trick before? Even long distance lover’s well muscled legs can’t keep me twitterpated when I imagine them in, gasp, rollerblades!

Yes, there are truly logical and healthy ways to get your mind off of a person, but sometimes, when all those logical ways fail you, you just have to fake it until you make it. Sometimes you just have to trick your brain into forgetting about all those dreamy qualities and replacing them with less sexy and appealing thoughts until you truly do feel over them, or as some might tell you, under someone new. So here are some of the ways I’m faking it until I make it…

1. Picture him doing the deed with Rihanna.

Yeah, I know, picturing the person who gets you hot and bothered getting hot and bothered with someone else seems like a weird way to make yourself feel good about getting over them, but really, Rihanna? You know your dreamlover is walking away with some sort of nastiness after a roll in the hay with her (sorry, Rihanna lovers, she may get our booties shakin in the club but you can’t deny, girl is seems durrrrty).

2. Jorts.

Every time I picture long distance lover’s lovely non-chicken legs, I try to make myself picture them in jorts (and on the days when I’m really pining for him, I imagine them to be jorts with jewel encrusted patterns bedazzling the butt pockets) and damnit if they aren’t getting less and less attractive every time I think of it! The same can be said for Ed Hardy shirts. Suddenly his sexy torso does nothing for me when encased in a shirt worn by Pauly D.

3. Telling me he doesn’t like TV.

Anytime I think of all the things we have in common and all our easy conversations I just imagine him dropping in this bomb and my horrified reaction. It goes a little something like this:

“Oh long distance lover, you’re just the greatest! I can’t believe we love reading and both want to live on boats and like all these randoms bands! I bet you also think Happy Endings is hilarious and are ready for it to be back on like I am!”

“No, not really. I don’t watch TV.”

Cut to me spit-taking my wine, falling to my knees, my hands raised to the heavens, and releasing a dramatic cry:


4. Picturing him in a hot dog eating contest.

Yes, I LOVE hot dogs. And I LOVE contests (edit: I LOVE winning contests) but the thought of any man shoving 60+ water soaked weiners into their mouths, be he long distance lover or Tom Hardy, makes me instantly less attracted.

5. Picture him squealing like a schoolgirl at the site of a mouse.

Imagining him unable to catch or kill or just rid me somehow of these fictitious critters scampering about in my kitchen because he’s scared really puts a damper on the whole loving his manliness. Yes,I know it’s not the most PC thing to say, but I’m a girl and I like being the girl in the relationship! I need me a Man willing to defend me from all threats, including critters.

Imagining him in acid washed jorts, dropping his 58th soggy hot dog to jump on a chair and yelp over some furry vermin gets me one step closer to cooling down my hots for long distance lover. It may not be logical, or even rational or mature, but, you know what? When your heart misses something it can’t have, sometimes illogical steps must be taken! There is no shame in finding ways to make your brain find your crush less desirable to you until one day, you find that person you never need to get over.

The Art of Letting Go

I’m a control freak.

Just slightly.

Ok, maybe more than slightly, but less than full on freak about my need for control. From 1-10 on the controlling scale, I’d say I’m about a 6.5. I don’t necessarily feel the need to control others around me (though sometimes, God would I love to.) but I have a hard time not feeling in control of myself and my surroundings. I will make lists for myself, planning out days, even weekends, even trips, so I can ensure I get everything I need/want to done and maximize my time. This isn’t necessarily my favorite characteristic about myself, but it makes for good balance in my social circle since most other people are more of the go-with-the-flow gals. We balance each other out and it works. In fact, I suppose I rather like knowing if people need things planned, they will come to me. So why isn’t this my favorite trait, you may ask? Simple. Having control over what I’m doing from 12pm-2:30pm this Tuesday is easy enough. Having control over feelings though? That is HARD and, unfortunately, I crave control over not just one part of my life, but all parts.

I am an emotional person (see secret 3 in my last post). I always have been, and, unless I start downing zombie-like drugs (or become a zombie myself in the looming apocalypse) it’s likely I always will be. I feel things deeply, and this has always terrified me. If I feel strongly enough about a person, it’s likely I may let my mind run rampant and do irrational things (more than likely, since this has already happened in past relationships. Cut to: 19 year old Thalia showing up at her on-again, off-again boyfriend’s house, a hot, teary mess, yelling about how he’ll never find anyone like me with his mother in the very next room, her opinion of me lowering by the second {yes, this was too pitiful to be included in Secret Sunday}). Irrational things scare me. Being so out of control with my emotions SCARES ME. I have a suspicion most people feel pretty similarly on this topic. I would assume most people are at least a little terrified of feeling so deeply about something or someone they just can’t control themselves. But what I want to know is, how do people deal with this?

I’m at a crossroads in life. After opening up completely to someone, after relinquishing total control, I found myself on the losing end of a break up. This is why I need total control, I told myself day after day. But deep down, I know this isn’t a winning strategy. In order to remain in total control of my emotions, of how much or how little I give to someone and feel about someone, I will be keeping a part of myself behind lock and key, and isn’t the whole part of feeling deeply for someone not having to keep any part of yourself hidden from them?

So here I am again. Finding myself on the verge of feeling deeply enough for someone that all the control I’ve regained of my emotions is chipping away. This is my crossroads. How do I allow myself to have these feelings without completely freaking out when I catch myself losing control? How do I not shut myself off from this person when I start to get nervous when it takes him too long to text back and I get a little peeved/worried he’s losing interest and then realize I must be gaining more interest than think I should be giving and only after this little spaz out do I realize here I am again, lowering from a 6.5 to a -2 on the control scale.

I picked a few friend’s brains about this and so far I’m getting a lot of “Just let go. Worry less about this and just see what happens.”. Say WHAT? Do you know how much that advice pains a control freak?! I mean, I see where they are coming from. People I ask advice of are people that only want the best for me, so maybe, just maybe, letting go is what’s best for me and as outsiders they can see this in a way I cannot. But, holy shit. Just let go?! Talk about terrifying. Control is to me what rope and carabiners are to rock climbers. My whole life I’ve climbed with this equipment and now, what, you’re telling me I need to throw caution to the wind and just let go?! Surely there must be some class I can take, to ease from one way of living to the other. Please, someone tell me that there is a class, The Art of Letting Go 101, because this crossroads is real and is demanding more and more attention as my feelings for this person grow.

The One.

When does the one stop being The One?
I’m a firm believer that, in this lifetime, there may be many The One’s. Just the amount of people in this world and how much love a person’s heart has to give and how many different things you can love about different people makes me believe that there must be at least of few of them out there. Whether you end up finding those people or not, well, that’s an entirely different story.
I found one.
But, it didn’t work out. The relationship has been over for some time, but more than once I’ve found myself asking, when does the one stop being The One?
My brain is very smart. My brain knows you don’t love me the way I love you. My brain knows you don’t want to be in a serious relationship and I do. My brain knows that even though people may be perfect for each other things still may not work out, that being perfect for each other just isn’t always enough. Yes, my brain knows these things.
My heart doesn’t seem to be as quick on the uptake though.
What my heart knows is this: The way my stomach still goes on a rollercoaster ride when you sit next to me. The way my face hurts after ten minutes of non-stop laughing when we are texting each other. The way I compare every kiss I’ve had since you to the one you gave me after our first date, the one that melted my entire being.
Of course, my brain wants to slap my heart into reality. Damnit, heart, get it together! Start being a little more logical and a little less fanciful,
Yes, all these feelings are there, and they may be for quite some time, but facts are facts…it didn’t, and won’t, work. There is likely someone out there for both of us that will fit what we both want better than either of us did for each other. I may not love that person as much or as deeply, but, then again, maybe I will. I will love them, and, maybe more importantly, they will love me the way I want to be loved. It’s also fact that after months of not talking, we are finally friends. We can spend ten minutes texting each other and laughing to the point of tears and we can sit next to each other and we can have fun again, and it feels wonderful. And for me, there truly is no expectation that this will ever lead to more again, but there it all is…loitering in the back of my heart…he was The One.
Will these lingering feelings fade with (even more) time? Will they change when I finally meet someone that I don’t compare to you? Or, will they always just linger? A question that no one, not even me, can answer…when will he stop being The One?