Letting Go

Crooning on my STEREO: Titanium by David Guetta 

 Letting go - I hate that phrase. It is a little obnoxious when you HAD something, and then having (or forced!) to drop it into the ocean. We associate this circumstance with loving someone or something, and then having to forsake it for the better of the other half.

In other words, selfless Love.

What the hell is that? Who buys that?

Straight to the point, I loved a boy. Boy didn't love me in return. He went to somebody else. My heart broke.

Or

Boy loved me. I didn't love him. I left. His heart broke.

Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons, and in my uneventful life I had the pleasure of experiencing both ends of the sword within the span of 6 months. The latter circumstance is easier to deal with as I am not the one bawling my eyes out. However the guilt of not being able to reciprocate a good person's feelings also has devastating effects on my psyche. I feel pretty bad.

There is nothing more lame than to carry that guilt onto the next person you meet. Naturally we tend to carry burdens of the past onto the next relationship because we are so afraid of repeating the same mistakes.

Also we are shit scared of karma's vengeance: because I thought I had hurt someone so bad, the same crap was going to come back at me.

I met the man of my dreams (seriously!) sometime ago. He was perfect: hot, clever, funny, charming, sweet, gorgeous, and all the good stuff. Family and friends loved him. He thought I was THE ONE for him, so did I on the vice versa - but that momentary fairy tale didn't last long until he made a runner for my friend. Damn.

Obviously my heart broke. Even worse when you catch them in your closet together.

That shit you can never forget. 

So I did everything to let go of the heartache - I did my nails, went shopping, overhauled myself, waxed my legs and all that shallow beautifying. I even went to a sharman who charged me 300 Euros during a session where I just slept and did nothing.

Sadly being the best looking person I can be can never replace that feeling of abandonment. 

I drummed the notion of martyrdom into my head that if I really loved this dude, I should be happy if he is happy. But theoretically, how can you delude yourself into happiness when your heart is sobbing with low self esteem because he chose to bang your friend over you?

I decided that the best way to move on, is not actually moving on, but to find a way back to myself in order to be happy again.

I am still working on it until today. Tough job.