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Love Story

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Love Story Powered By Docstoc
					This is a love story. And it’s not.




We met at work, I had been with the company three months when he joined. The first
time I saw him, I was startled. His presence evoked a visceral reaction from me, I felt like
all the breath had been knocked out of me and the small voice of my heart said, “oh”. He
scared me, I had spent the last seven years of my life shying away from men and any
possibility of having a serious relationship to pour everything I had into my career. I
recognized immediately here was someone that could disrupt all that.

We spent the next eight months circling one another, having very little direct contact. I
learned that he had a girlfriend and that he was engaged. We never spoke directly and
despite my being an extremely friendly, social person at work, I never reached out to him.
He made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t like it.

Soon, we had our company anniversary party. And after several hours of celebrating, I
found myself standing next to him. Having had more than my share of beers and
cocktails, I started a conversation with him. We sat down and for the next two hours,
spoke only to one another ignoring the party and crowd of coworkers around us. We
talked of love, and how he wasn’t in it. We spoke of our careers and our passion for
creativity and beauty. He complimented me, I complimented him and he asked why I was
still single. He showed me a burn on his hand that I touched while he told he how it had
happened. I had a cut on my hand, which I shared with him as well. It came out that we
had secretly held crushes on one another the last eight months, and in that moment, I
knew somehow that life had just changed. An awkward fear came over me and I excused
myself to leave.

A few days later he broke his engagement and we went to dinner. He told me that he had
waited his entire life to feel about someone the way he did about me. That he had loved
me from the first moment that he saw me and had avoided me because of his situation.
That what he felt for me was epic. I said that we were lucky, that we were blessed to have
found one another. Because how many people in their lives get to live out their fairy
tales? I believed we were meant to be together.

But things didn’t last. They were awkward. He thought I was perfect when I’m not. I had
many things going on my life. He had difficult things happening in his. I acted out as he
withdrew. And after a couple particularly bad scenes I was at fault for, it was over. I
wanted to explain, but he walked away too quickly for me to catch up.

He didn’t want to see me. Or talk to me. He couldn’t. I wrote him emails, I gave him
space, but he cut me off. All without ever talking to me face to face. I finally told him
that I couldn’t believe I ever believed him. That he was bullshit, that I couldn’t believe
after the things he said he would walk away without at least talking. I apologized, I
humbled myself, I cared more about being right and wanted to prove that. But he
wouldn’t budge. He told me he had disengaged and that I had disappointed him too
much. I was heartbroken.

And I hated myself. I blamed myself. I couldn’t forgive myself. So I tried. I fought, I
begged, I pleaded. And meanwhile, I hurt myself. Because I didn’t know what else to do.
I could not bear my day to day. I was desperate to crawl outside my own skin. I felt like I
was suffocating. I had lost myself. In my desire for him, in my hatred for myself. I
couldn’t feel who I was at all anymore.

I went away to an island paradise for the holidays by myself. And my first two days and
nights alone, all I could do was cry and sleep. But then slowly, I began to heal. I surfed in
the early mornings, I walked along the beach in the afternoons, and shot the sunset every
night reminding myself that there are things far bigger in this world than myself, my petty
problems and my broken heart. I made new friends and talked about the world and
everything beautiful in it. I forgave myself, and remembered that I didn’t need him to be
happy. That I deserved more than what he had offered, and that life would always move
forward. I remembered how to breathe again.

And when I came back from my sojourn, I decided to change my life. For me. For the
things that I wanted. I crafted a five month plan that involved quitting my current job and
leaving the city I lived in to focus on writing and my peace of mind. I started putting
things in motion, and the minute I did, he surfaced. He wanted to have dinner, he wanted
to talk. He told me that he was sorry, that he should have been a better man. That he had
never stopped missing me or caring for me. That he wanted to try again.

I forgave him, because that was all I ever asked of him. How could I deny him the very
thing I had wanted from him? So we started seeing one another again. And I was happy.

But then, as I continued to move forward with my plans, he began disengaging again. He
explained that he wasn’t keen to have a long distance relationship, that there were things
in his life that he needed to work on before he could be with someone else. That he
wished me all the best in the world, that I was everything he looked for, but that the
timing wasn’t right for him. And once again I fought, once again I tried. I couldn’t
understand why he bothered to come back to leave again. I had rational reasons why we
shouldn’t walk away from one another, I had emotional reasons. I was angry, I was sad, I
tried to be understanding and gracious, but he wouldn’t budge. And slowly I realized, that
none of this mattered anymore. Because I knew that this would happen. Because the first
time he told me things I believed, I was wrong. Could I really be surprised that this
happened again? How many more times would I believe what I wanted to believe instead
of believing what was real and right in front of me? When would I stop compromising
what I deserved for what I wanted? When would I realize that being right, didn’t matter if
the other person didn’t care?

If you love someone, you stay by them. There is no such things as a wrong time or a
mistake that is too great. Love is just love. Any excuse to walk away from love offered is
just that: an excuse to explain you can’t and don’t feel the same way back towards the
person that’s offering their love to you.

So this time, I’ll let him walk away. And this time, I’m walking away for good. And this
time, I’m truly looking towards the future and accepting that this chapter of my life,
whatever it was, is over. I want to welcome what’s to come with a completely light and
open heart because now I realize I’m finally letting go of what’s false in my life to let in
what will be true. I finally realize that the most important person I could ever love, is
myself. And part of loving myself is recognizing that I deserve someone who doesn’t just
say that they love me, but actually really does. And to give that person the chance, I’ll
weed out those who would fake it. Because we choose the lives we live and I choose truth
and joy. I choose love.

I guess this is a love story. Just a different kind of love.

				
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