Lately, I've been bombarded with these topics in my personal life. The fragility of new loves, the seemingly indestructible presence of the old, the fun flirtation had with a forbidden crush, and the sweetness of selfish self-indulgence.
Last night I was listening to an episode of my favorite podcast and the topic was the 'forbidden crush.' I could go on to share my views on many aspects of this particular episode but to prevent rambling, I will just touch on one specific point. Crushes are who or what we want at that particular point in our lives. The guy who is 'husband material.' The guy with a million stamps in his passport. The guy you always see at yoga. You desire what may fulfill you. But as you grow and change, so can your mind. And mine often does.
I was recently told that I am reckless with my feelings. Which I could not agree with more. I am a zero to sixty kind of gal. One minute I'm hot, and in the blink of an eye I can be as cold as ice. A Gemini to the very core. I've pushed many a boyfriend away because of this duel personality, but I guess that is usually the plan. To 'silently' slip out the back... or so I tell myself. But really what I do is give my heart to these men quite easily, and then I tear it away with little warning. It's like waking up from a dream.. I sort of just snap out of whatever trance I had myself in.
Unfortunately it probably has a lot to do with the fact that I compare most of these relationships to the one I consider to be the most serious. Although it was serious, it was not always healthy. We spent a lot of time arguing and betraying one another. Yet we were able to connect on another level that allowed us to somehow overcome these instances just long enough to share a burning passion and curiosity for each other. He once referred to me in a letter as being like a drug, intoxicating and fleeting. As was he. Despite the fights and the pain we dragged each other through, we shared some beautiful memories, some serious laughs, and many of the most influential years of my young life. Most days I go without thinking about him, but some days he still leaves a gaping hole in my chest. It's hard to lose any love, no matter how ugly it may have been at the end. And it's sometimes easy to think that returning to this love affair would breathe life into those stale memories. But it's important to remember that if that relationship didn't make you happy before, what makes you think it would make you happy now?
These thoughts seem to be in the forefront of my mind since moving. Uncovering hidden treasures from past relationships as I packed my life into cardboard boxes. Stirring up the feelings I had the last time I had loaded my life into boxes. And the time before that. And the time before that.
So here I find myself in a scenario much like one I've already experienced. Out of a relationship and into a one-bedroom bachelorette pad, living in sweet solitude. I've done a lot, literally and mentally, to clean my slate and I've just begun tot have a relationship with myself again. I spend many a quiet night in perched atop my meditation pillow exploring these thoughts and feelings. Trying to forgive myself and others for the sticky residue and uneasiness that heartache can often leave behind. Trying not to over analyze my every action but instead being patient and tolerant with myself. I'm actively working towards letting go of the things that do not serve me. The weight of the baggage I carry from my greatest heartbreak. The guilt that pushes down on me from the hearts I have trampled. The ache of wanting something that I cannot have.