Right now he should've been boarding a plane to begin a new life here. Instead I've fought to be added back on Facebook (or all things) so logistics and clear up of things can be arranged...oh how times change.
But the thing is...I think I'm figuring something out.
I knew you. I REALLY really knew you. I knew you better than I have ever known anyone in my whole life. The woman that values her friends and family above all else sometimes cant work out her own sister, or know when her best friend is hurting or why. But this woman knew every thing about you. Could always work out why you said what you said or did what you did...and not just "why" but the whole back story and thought process on it.
I'm not sure if I ever even know that much about myself....
And thats on top of the selfless, unconditional love that I gave to him. I had always thought I knew about love. But I didnt. I learnt a lot with him. A lot about how loving someone is working together, giving and giving because you want to - not because your expected to or because you expect it back. But because by giving your all: your love and affection, kindness and passion to that person makes you happy because your being everything you can for them. Safe in the knowledge that it'll come back to you, but that not being the reason why.
And I think now whats hurting me....is that instead of being proud of myself. Proud of allowing myself to grow and put someone else first, and love unconditionally and without selfishness...I'm hating myself. Hating that it was all for nothing, all wasted, and worst of all - probably all unappreciated.
And I REALLY shouldnt hate myself. Its not my fault that you dont want it; dont want me. But I hate that I pride myself on my judgement of character, that I defended you so unrelentingly, (but also without needing to - I wasnt defensive, I just accepted and loved you for you and therefore everyone else did too) and I was so so wrong.
Not wrong because it ended, or because of what you did. But for how your continuing to allow it to end.
You meant so much to me, I always thought that you would hold onto a small piece of my heart. Not a big bit, not an important bit that would stop me moving on and loving someone else. But a small little corner would always be yours, and when occasionally my mind strayed to that corner, it would smile wistfully at everything that we shared, remember the good times and be thankful that they happened before carrying on with my life again. And I wanted that so that I knew that the love we had, and what I gave you was unconditional and selfless and meant something.
But you've done so much and ended it so harshly over and over again, I cant even have that. I'll now always look back on the first time I loved someone so honestly and freely and truly with anger and hatred. Which flies clear in the face of what the love was. And that taints it more than your cruelty ever could.
I hope your happy with that. I hope your proud of your ability to damage and destroy even the most pure of things. You have the luxury of never doubting for a second that you were loved and cared for. You were told it every single day (even if you chose not to hear it) and in varying formats you've heard it consistenty since. Whereas I am left to question and doubt everything I was, everything I gave and everything I was told. Thats not a nice position to be in. All I can say is I'm glad I'm strong and have amazing friends and family around me. Because it would have totally broken a lesser woman than me.
Here's to strong women, and having the power to not even let ourselves destroy us - let alone the men we gave our hearts to.