Being richer for it — even when losing in love
Contrary to what Hollywood movies would like to make us believe, love does not automatically lead to a happy and everlasting relationship with the other person. I once fell in love with a man and he did too. But there was fear of social conventions, fear of hurting people that were close and fear that this relationship might, in time, fail too. Fear kills love, not hatred. Hatred is love’s evil sibling but fear is love’s gravedigger.
I felt no such fear. I flew higher than he did and therefore fell much harder when I realized, there will be no Hollywood ending in this for me. It hurt so much to accept that our story wasn’t meant to be.
Life is this way sometimes. Not kind.
We can change many things in our lifes but I don’t believe we can change another human being into loving us more than he/she is capable of. It was a devasting blow to finally confront the fact that he will never love me with the same abandonment that I felt.
It seems an eternity now that I first heard his voice over the telephone and fell in love with him then and there. He literally “had me at Hello”. Less than two years after that I broke my wings and bruised my heart beyond recognition. It took a long time to recuperate. My scars did hurt even longer.
But, believe it or not, I feel richer for it.
With time the scars have shown me two things : First, that I am a survivor, I learned that it takes more to break me. And secondly, that I was and still am capable of loving unconditionally and with complete surrender. Besides, I know no other way of loving.
Although it did take a while I finally fell in love again and am being loved back, fearlessly.
Life is this way sometimes. Inexplicably kind.
He still calls me once or twice a year to check if I am ok. But also, that I may not forget him. Even if I knew how, I would never want to forget him. I would be the poorer for it … not having loved like this.
He is all and everywhere
The contours of his face, the color of his hair
I recognize the blue of his eyes in the clothes of passer-bys
The movement, when he turns his head — I see it done by a stranger from afar
And the memory of his kiss and smile shines through my nights like a star