A Different Kind of Ending

I have to be honest, this post finds me feeling a little bit sheepish. When I last left you I was riding the wave of love off into the sunset and now I'm writing to you on the heels of it. A month has gone by, but a great deal has passed. Like every relationship, mine was put to the test - probably in a much more sudden and dramatic fashion than any other relationship I've been in - and as happens all too often, it didn't pass. 

And just like that, my new relationship was over and I was left dizzy, sitting amidst a swirl of emotions. Here I was again, having poured my heart and soul into something only to have it all come undone. Unraveled. Alone. It was a position I'd found myself in before and one that I'd fought so incredibly hard not to wind up in again. 

I entered cautiously into the realm of the after-love expecting all of the weight of my past relationships to come crashing down on me - but that never happened. I expected to be forced to swallow a giant pill of bitterness and hurt but being single this time had a different aftertaste.

I definitely experienced many of the same types of feelings I've had before after the ending of a relationship - feelings of rejection, thoughts of failed past romances, worries of being on a timeline for marriage and kids, of being destined to end up alone forever and having to deal with all of life's stresses by myself (did I mention I totaled my car?) - only those thoughts didn't feel as overwhelming or carry as much weight as they likely would have in the past. Instead of knocking me down entirely they came and went almost like a reflex.  

In the past I've wallowed in my sorrows, pining away for lost loves probably longer than was healthy or necessary. Although the wounds from this experience are fresh and part of me still mourns the relationship and even yearns for it at times, I'm surprised to find that I can already begin to appreciate it for what it was and I am able to feel grateful for the time we spent together. I can recognize what I gained from the relationship and I'm proud of the fact that, regardless of the end result, I can honestly say that I gave the best of me and loved wholly without fear or trepidation.

I'm sure I've mentioned it here before but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic. Although I've certainly seen a more lackluster side of love, I still believe in fairy tale endings. When it comes to relationships, my mind and my heart fight a constant battle. My logical side urges me to wall up and plant my feet on the ground but my heart wants to throw caution to the wind and run with it. I end up getting way ahead of myself  planning and dreaming, and this time was no exception. As much as I fought it, my heart took over and I allowed myself to fall, to feel, to believe that my perfect ending was within reach. 

But the trouble is, nothing is perfect. And sometimes relationships just don't work. Sometimes you might do everything within your power to try and make it work and the problem is just too big. Sometimes, no matter how much you care about someone, you have to accept that you've done what you can do and then cut your losses and move on. I gave it my best - I believe that we both did - and it didn't work out. It's no fault of my own, it's just one of those things. Coming to that realization was hard but it didn't feel as devastating for me as it has in the past. 

Even though I've spent (and still continue to spend) a fair amount time wishing things could be different, I know that I'm making the choice that's right for me and that makes me feel good and it makes me feel loved. I won't lie, there are times I can't help but wonder what might have been but this time I'm already able to believe and to see that life will go on and I will love again. And unlike so many times before, what remains isn't sadness, it's hope. 


-k