the list.

It all starts with a list; an idea. These credentials paint a picture of our idea of the perfect person who we have convinced ourselves we are meant to be with. Typically,  we are influenced by fictional movies and books from our childhood that have become deeply rooted in our minds.

Tall. Handsome. Funny. Successful. Dresses well. Employed. Independent. IDEALLY, a prince. 
You get the idea. 

The list is undoubtedly what we will spend the rest of our lives using as a checklist for the potential “love of our life,” and thou shall not deviate from The List. Settling is never an option.

But consider this: what if never deviating is, in fact, settling? What if having one specific idea of a person is just a one-way path to disappointment? Not because the idea of this person doesn’t exist, I’m sure they do (to an extent); but because you would be selling yourself short by adhering to The List. You could argue that The List was created for the sole purpose to ensure that you wouldn’t be settling; but, what if the result of your list ends up not being at all what you want and you’ve fooled yourself thinking this specific idea of a person could fulfill you? What if the result leaves you completely unhappy?

Well, you’ll undoubtedly keep looking for another somebody; but with the same requirements. Whether you realize it or want to admit it, you are once again running through that list in your mind weeding out the possible contenders. You may not be always thinking about it; but it has become so ingrained into who you are and your standards  that it has become difficult to look for anything else. You have developed a “type” that is tough to walk away from. You might even consciously tell yourself that you need to “try something new,” but do you actually listen to that advice? 

If your answer is no, then your result will always be the same.

Here’s your solution: make a new list. 

Literally. Write it down. Not a list detailing the person you want; but a list detailing the  l o v e  you want.

The love of your life shouldn’t be a list of credentials describing what a person is, it should be a list detailing who a person is and the feeling that they give you. 

Warmth. Security. Protection. Adventure. Excitement. Support. Commitment. Humility.

Whatever the feeling is that you’ve been searching for and longing to experience, those are the standards you should seek out in a relationship. Who cares if he drives a nice car if he doesn’t open the door for you? He may say “all the right things” but does he take the time to listen to you? Who cares if he buys you dinner if he holds it over you in the future? Does “quality time” really matter if you can’t be off of your phone for an hour to give your whole heart and mind to the person beside you?

This new list requires your partner to be kind without pride and expectations; to be protective and have your back without the risk of the anxiety brought on by jealousy; to commit without regret or the need for constant reassurance due to insecurity and doubt. 

This new list also requires you to be the same kind of partner in return because rethinking your priorities and expectations forces you to look at who you are and what you bring to the relationship; and if you are lacking in an area that you are requiring from someone else, then maybe look inward and work on that aspect of yourself as well.

We need to start looking outside the cliche need for “tall, dark, and handsome” and begin prioritizing how we are being treated. 

Your list may be different from mine, but we should all be looking for a love that satisfies the feelings that we crave. 

So, what’s on your list?

iridescent.

Have you ever thought about how a movie about yourself would begin? 
What would it look like?

I’ve always pictured my opening scene the same way:

I’m sitting by a closed window in a quaint, aesthetically pleasing café with my notebook, a laptop and a cup of coffee. The weather and mood of this scene has always changed depending on my disposition and the stage of life that I am in; but I almost always picture a cold winters day or a brisk fall morning with deep, de-saturated colors. It gives a sense of yearning and contemplation, with an ever so slight essence of hope for more things to come. I was never sad or feeling downhearted in these scenes; just always waiting for something. My gaze went consistently from my writing, to the window, and back. Even as a I read through my old journals and study every instance where my “movie” is mentioned, I never write down what I’m looking for. I just know that I’m looking.

I haven’t thought about the opening scene of my movie for quite some time; in fact, the only reason it’s on my mind now is because I did a deep-dive into the drafts patiently waiting to be published on my blog. Out of the  s e v e r a l  unfinished posts in that folder, this one captivated me. Not for the moody setting or the unanswered question of what exactly I was hoping to find, but because my opening scene that I picture today has changed entirely.

I’m still in a quaint little café by a window with my laptop, journal, and cup of (now iced) coffee; however, the colors have changed. It’s no longer deep and brooding. It is full of light and vivid color. It must be spring because there are flowers framing the window where I sit; and instead of being on the inside looking out the window, I’m outside on the patio—and from time-to-time, I look up. The feeling is of overwhelming gratitude. I don’t feel the need to gaze in front of me in search of something more to come because I’m genuinely happy and thankful for exactly where I am.

So what happened between these visions?

I’m still me. I still prefer my coffee to be mostly cream; I still write in 3 separate journals for different purposes that only make sense to me; I still go out of my way to say hello to every dog that crosses my path and I will wave across a sea of people if I see a baby make eye contact with me; I still put way too many chocolate chips in my undercooked-mostly-dough cookies and no, I will never stop; I still clean the counters and somehow miss all of the crumbs from my sandwich earlier that day; I still giggle when the little bubbles from dish soap spurt out of the top; I will still choose a decade-old cheesy chick flick or classic Disney movie over a thoughtful documentary on my nights alone because nostalgia always wins in the end; I still drop whatever I am holding, especially if there’s no saving it once it is dropped ( i.e. miso soup—sorry Caleb); I still sing way too loud and out-of-tune; I still have an uncontrollable urge to buy every pink water bottle I see especially if it has gold writing on it; I still haven’t figured out how to properly hang wet clothes so that they don’t wrinkle and, honestly, I probably never will; and I still get way too emotionally invested in fictional characters and refuse to throw out any book I have ever owned.

Yes, I am still me. The difference is, I’ve humbly accepted it. I am blissfully and irrevocably happy to be who I am. I’m no longer gazing into the distance waiting for something to come my way; because I have absolutely everything that I could ever need. I have my family, my friends, my love, my health; I also have insecurities, and heartache and doubt from time-to-time. But I no longer see those moments as setbacks or something to dread. Life happens; and while life happens, God is right there by my side. He’s got me, and He’s got the ones I love. One of the biggest realizations I had during this journey is accepting the fact that God needed to be with me before He was ready to give me to someone else. I had to put in time with Him and myself before I could offer anything to anyone else. That relationship had to mend first. Once it did, everything else made sense. I stopped searching for a picture-perfect life, and started accepting the bright and messy life that has been put in front of me.

My life is no longer filled with fleeting and de-saturated periods of waiting; but it is bursting with fulfilling, never-ending moments of pure joy and vibrancy. I may drop my miso soup that was generously bought for me, and I may trip on absolutely nothing and feel the need to dramatically fall to the ground; but I will do so with a smile on my face and laugh uncontrollably leaving my mouth. I’ll have moments of deep sadness and need some guidance, and I’ll have moments of pure joy and try my best to spread that feeling to everyone around me. Exactly who I am, whether I’m on the ground covered in soup or standing on the balcony of a 5 star resort in Mexico, I’ll be happy.

Because that’s life. Isn’t it wonderful?

hello my old heart

I’m realizing that one of my biggest fears is to no longer be desired by the people I care about; a fear of “over-staying my welcome.” So I intentionally distance myself until they miss me, then I return to their lives. And the cycle continues.

I’m also realizing that I’m not the only one who feels this way or tends to do this. How many times have you felt that you’re putting too much into a relationship or a friendship and thought well maybe I should back off and see if they notice and reach out ?

We all have either done this or have been given this advice. But where does this fear stem from? Well, I think I’ve finally figured it out. This fear is the result of countless relationships throughout our lives where people leave, then a few weeks later come back with the “I miss you” texts and phone calls. It’s that simple. 

We’ve learned to believe that in order to create desire, we must first create distance. 

It’s true that distance can make the heart grow fonder. But there comes a point when the distance that’s intentionally created to mimic that effect becomes perceived has indifference, and this is where the problem begins. When did we become so afraid to openly express what we are wanting? When did this fear of seeming “needy” become so ingrained in our minds that we would willingly rather be distant and alone than speak our minds and possibly get what is it that we’re longing for? More importantly, what does it take to overcome this? 

It seems that my whole generation feels the need at some point to prove a point. Whether it be to themselves or to someone else, we feel as if we need to prove that we are independent and self-sufficient in order to feel worthy and respected. And while those are great attributes to aspire to, trying to prove them to others for the wrong reasons can result in an innate disdain for any opportunity to rely on someone else. So maybe the tendency to create distance to see if others reach out is a way to prove to yourself that you’re needed. 

Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to feel needed. But to intentionally put someone you love in a situation where they’re missing and needing you in order to prove your own worth seems selfish to me. I never realized how destructive that type of action is until I began writing this post. The behavior is destructive because it then creates tense and dependent relationships that rely on one person having more power than the other.

If we were able to accept that we can be both independent and reliant upon those we love, then we wouldn’t be so afraid to express whatever it is that we would need.

It took someone to convince me that he would never leave for me to believe that the ones who count never would in the first place.

It’s okay to ask for help.

It’s okay to tell some one you want to see them. Right now. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever.

It’s okay to bare your heart and soul to the people you love while also knowing that it’s okay if it doesn’t work out. Because one day it will.

It’s okay to be strong and independent, and it’s okay to be weak and broken and allow someone to help put you back together. 

We need to stop feeling guilty for the things we feel and start feeling grateful for the opportunity to feel them.

Confessions of the Not-So-Single Single Girl

Not quite single, not quite taken. It’s an odd relationship status, but it’s the only one I can seem to identify with. I’ve been single for so long that forfeiting that title almost seems wrong. The words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” sound so odd coming out of my mouth that I can only assume it’s because I’m simply not ready for that step. But I’m also not interested in dating multiple people; I’m a one-guy-kind-of-gal with an odd set of commitment issues. So “not-so-single single” seems like the right title for me.

“Working on my high hopes…”

I have happily mastered the art of singlehood, but it’s becoming more apparent that I am completely clueless on how to conduct a real relationship. Yes, I know exactly what I want for myself and what I’m looking for in a lifetime partner. I know down to the tiniest detail what kind of relationship I want. But I have no idea how to get there.

I know how to be single; I know the kind of partnership I want; I don’t know the steps in between. 

“…going to make you cross the tight ropes…”

The hopeless romantic in me wants to say that those steps will just fall into place with the right person; but the realist in me knows that’s complete bull. Watching the relationships around me between the people I love has taught me that any relationship is work regardless if it’s with the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks or your soulmate. A relationship is a choice you have to make every single day; and I honestly think the lack of that realization is why so many relationships fail, and is why I’m so reluctant to give up my “single” title. I need to know without a doubt that the person I choose to be with is also choosing me every single day despite my faults; because that’s exactly what I will do. Only then, when we irrevocably choose one another, will the “steps in between” fall into place and I will be able to cast aside my “single” title with confidence.

“…I’ll see you there.”

The biggest mistake I could possibly make is rush into something that may not be right. So for now I’ll remain open and love for as long as it feels right, and have enough courage to take a step back when it starts to feel wrong; I’ll remember to breathe a little more and stress a little less; I’ll write until my mind is clear and my worry is gone, but remain calm on the days when that just doesn’t seem possible; I’ll cry when I need to without an ounce of shame because I’ll know that my smile will return; and I’ll know that everything, no matter what, will be okay. 

So, until I am chosen by the one whom I also choose I will remain the not-so-single single girl. And that’s perfectly fine, because I can wait. 

 

Subheads inspired by "High Hopes" by Glen Hansard. Amazing song. Go listen to it.

For the girl who has not yet been chosen

“Blessed is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her.” – Luke 1:45

It’s someone saying, “I know you, inside and out; good and bad. And I don’t want it.”

That’s the risk you take when you decide to open your heart. So how do you justify this risk? How do you justify willingly putting yourself in that position when you’ve never really been in love and all you’ve experienced is the “I don’t want you”? Because that happens. Some people never get the opportunity to experience what it’s like to have someone truly want you. Even if it doesn’t ultimately work out, some people never experience the feeling of someone saying, “yes, I’m in this. You and me. Let’s see where this goes.”

I’m one of those people. I’ve never had someone choose me and reject all of the other prospects; not completely at least. Anyone I’ve ever been with has always had one foot out the door and in another. So why do I keep trying? The answer is simple:

It’s those brief moments of pure happiness; of peace. Those brief moments that show you what forever could feel like. That’s why I keep trying. I have faith that one day that fleeting and temporary feeling will last a lifetime.

One day I will meet someone who will add so much to my happiness that those passing moments will seem like nothing; because this moment, this man, will make it all worth it.

I know I’m worth this. I’m worth the chance to give my heart to someone and to know that he’s not going anywhere.

The hardest part of this realization is remaining patient and holding on to the standards you’ve developed throughout the years. Being in this position will irrevocably shape you into a stronger and independent being, which in turn will make those brief moments of loneliness seem so much longer. Everything is so much more intense for those who handle their emotions on their own; but, that can be kind of beautiful, can’t it? Yes, those hard moments are heartbreaking; but that just means the incredible moments will be breathtaking in a way that people who have experienced love over and over again could never understand.

To those who are considering settling for anything less than amazing… stop making excuses.

“But he made me laugh.” Someone else will make you laugh. “But he held my hand.” Someone else will hold your heart. “But he texted me ‘good morning.'” Someone else will be there when you wake up. And this “someone else” will do what no one else has done–commit to you.

“Be strong. Be brave. Be fearless. You are never alone.” – Joshua 1:9

 

Yes, I am single. No, I am not miserable.

It’s the holiday season, which means it’s that time of the year when family and loved ones endlessly question us poor souls who won’t be bringing anyone home for Christmas. So in the hopes of preventing the interrogation of those curious and coupled folks, I’m going to answer those questions now.

Yes I am single; no I am not miserable.
Yes I want a family; no I do not feel like I’m running out of time.
Yes I enjoy living alone; and even though there are moments when I feel lonely, no I am not really lonely.
Yes I want to get married; no I am not “too picky.”
Of course I am ecstatic for those I love who are in happy, healthy, and committed relationships; no I am not bitter or jealous.
Yes sometimes I get discouraged but no, I have not lost hope.

I am not doing anything wrong; I just haven’t found anybody right. My standards are too high? Sue me. I’ve held out for the man of my dreams for this long, so I might as well keep it up. No longer will I be ashamed or allow anyone to make me feel guilty for being “too picky.”

To my fellow single twenty-somethings, be patient. Our time will come.

To everyone else, leave us to our cats and wine nights. We’re doing just fine.

 

 

 

prana.

I remember I  was sitting at the kitchen table. My parents were cooking dinner and there had been a question I had been wanting to ask my mom–only my mom.
“Mom?” She looked up from the vegetables she had been chopping. “Mhm?”
“How much do you love dad?” My dad stopped preparing whatever he was cooking and looked up at us.
“A lot,” she answered confused. “Why?”
“You could never live without him, right?”
She walked closer to me and said, “I would never want to, but I could if I had to.”
Something on my face must have shown disappointment because she then said, “that’s not the answer you wanted, was it?”
I said nothing.
At this point in time I was in seventh grade and had just finished reading Twilight, and I was under the impression that real love was quite literally not being able to breathe without the other person. So if my mom could live without my dad, did she really love him? To my 12-year-old self the answer would be ‘no.’
I had forgotten all about this moment until a couple days ago when I was sifting through my books and found my old, worn copy of Twilight. It was then that I realized how completely warped my mind was to believe something like that. Not only believe it, but sincerely think that my mom was the only one who could correctly answer my question.
At 23-years-old, I am happy to say that I no longer believe that love is represented by the absence of oxygen when your significant other isn’t around. But that made me wonder–how is love represented to me now; and when I come across yet another book years down the road that will take me back to this moment, is this representation something I will still believe in?

To fall in love is a beautiful thing. I am discovering that it’s not something that just occurs all at once. It happens slowly, increasing intensity the further and deeper you fall. I am also realizing that it’s not just an exciting and stimulating feeling; it’s peaceful. Calm. Even if the person that’s in your life in this moment does not end up being “the one”…take comfort in the fact that you’re closer to finding it. Every heartbreak is a step in the right direction. That realization is what will give you peace, and will allow you to keep going. So fall. Deeper every time. Because each time you fall you’re giving yourself the chance to fall into the love that you’re meant to have.

but before you let yourself fall, remember…

“and indeed, there will be time…” 

There is time to love, time to dream, time to make mistakes, and time to redeem yourself. The tough part is finding the difference between taking your time, and wasting your time. I believe it’s a matter of mastering patience, and knowing when to practice it; knowing when to wait, when to go for it, and when to let go.

 

“…to wonder ‘do I dare?’ and ‘do I dare?'” -C.S. Lewis

Dare yourself to fall in love. But first remember you have to be happy without the happiness provided by someone else, and you have to love yourself without the love of someone else. The hardest part is knowing the difference, and I’ve only recently learned how. By taking a step back and finding the center of my happiness I was able to discover that all of the happiness I’ve been feeling and everything incredible in my life has come from me and the life I have been creating for myself. It is not because of the man that is in my life at the time. We have to learn to stop giving the credit for our happiness to the people who do not deserve it.
Love is not like the books. Every story is different, but one thing should always remain the same: create your own happiness in this life, and ask yourself what the other person is bringing to it. Most importantly, you have to be okay with letting that person go if what they are bringing to your life is anything less than pure happiness. You must be okay with being alone until you find the one who gives you exactly what you need…

…you have to be able to breathe by just being…you.

 

 

The Art of Feeling

It’s not for the ring. It’s not for the status. It’s not for the security or for the bragging rights. It’s for the love. And it really is that simple.
I am undeniably proud of myself–for my job, for staying healthy, for how I carry myself, for my mind and my morals, my beliefs and ideals…I am truly and irrevocably happy to be me. There’s only one thing missing: him. Whoever he may be.

I have realized that I have a need to be in control–not necessarily in control of my surroundings, but in control of what I am feeling. I have realized that every emotion I have, every feeling I express, every word that I say has been carefully and strategically thought out. This is in part because of how I want the world and those around me to perceive me.

I have always been the strong and stable one. The one that others go to when they’re falling apart–and that’s okay. I will happily and openly take on the burdens of those that I love, and I know they would do the same for me. But seldom do I have those crippling moments–moments when I break down and need help standing back up. Call it pride or fear, or any other word that describes an innate tendency to be in control…but I rarely let myself get to the point of complete heartache.

So, I decided to challenge myself. I let myself feel.

losing the hazy love-lights.

I wanted someone fresh; someone new. Someone that I had no prior knowledge or opinion of. So that’s what I found. He was different and intriguing–and the situation was exciting.

I went into it with no expectations and an open heart. Whatever I started to feel, I chose not to fight it nor did I think too much about it.

That in itself was a relieving experience. Normally, these feelings would become complicated by over-thinking due to a desire to know exactly what happens next–which almost always results in false assumptions and too high of expectations.

I think we can be so desperate for the all-consuming passion of love, that we take for granted the simple moments and feelings that occur at the beginning; and what happened at the beginning validated that belief. In simple terms, it was perfect.

The affair was a short one. I’m reluctant to say that it’s over because no one can truly know that; but that does not matter. The fact that the “relationship” may not last does not make the feelings and revelations any less real.

‘hope’–you’re a name that I hold close.

For the first time, I stopped thinking. I let go of my control and allowed myself to just feel–and those feelings, the ones that came naturally, felt so real. They felt right, and easy. I did not have to think. I did not have to plan out my next move or wonder what happens from here? I just felt…and that felt incredible. Did it work out with this man? I’m not sure, maybe it won’t. But I’ve realized something–it not working out does not make it wrong. The only way this experience could be negative is if I decided to close myself off because of it. What I allowed myself to feel was wonderful, and the aftermath did sting a little. But imagine what I would be feeling right now if it worked out.

I think that’s what makes it worth the hurt. One day it will work out–and when it does, that feeling will be indescribable in the most beautiful way.

 

“…and indeed there will be time.”

I think a huge part of heartache stems from the feeling of wasted time. All too often people tell me, “I can’t believe I spent so much time on this person.” There’s a sense of fear in investing time in something that does not end up working out because there’s a part of you that wonders if you missed out on the thing that could work out. 

I promise you, there is time.

There is time to make mistakes and redeem yourself, there is time to create and reinvent yourself–you cannot rush that process; and there is time to fall in love, get your heart broken, and fall in love again. I think that’s the key; feel with everything you have, and know that if it doesn’t work out, there’s time to feel that way again. And eventually, that feeling will never go away.

 

 

“And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.”
– The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by C.S. Elliot

Time.

My list of fears is small in scale, but significant in content. My first and true fear, the fear at the top of my list, is time.

Time moving too fast, time moving too slow, not having enough time, and having far too much. Regardless of which way time moves or how quickly, one thing is inevitable; time is always running out.

Now you can make the argument that time in manmade and in truth does not really exist. However, that fact does not take away the sense of time. It’s the feeling we get when time is running out that we truly fear.

So how does one break through the barrier that is time and start seeing life for what it really is: an endless amount of opportunities that we have plenty of “time” for.

But that time is wasted if you’re not doing anything with it. The idea of time is useless unless something becomes of it. The number one waster of time is waiting. 

I can’t help but wonder how much time we spend waiting as opposed to how much time we spend actually making something happen.

How often have you sat around waiting for that text or phone call? Or for someone to show up? How often have you wasted time waiting on someone else when all you really need is yourself to do something extraordinary. If you have to wait for someone in order to make time for them then realize that you are moving at a faster pace, and nothing and no one has the right to slow you down.

There’s a Promise

Journal entry from 2013

I woke up that morning and everything seemed so clear. It was like the answer to all of my penetrating questions was served up gourmet style on a silver platter and placed neatly in my head.

College was starting in less than a week and I realized that I had been desperately trying to hold on to something that will inevitably have to be let go—my high school life, and the friends that had become my world. I had to leave the comfort that had become my life.

But that situation made me think, what would happen if I’m able to actually let go and move on? Kind of a scary thought isn’t it? Because moving on opened the door to so many possibilities that I wasn’t sure I was ready for at the time.

After the day I had this revelation, I started to prepare myself to walk through the open door leading the way to a new chapter of my life.

When I got to college, I convinced myself that no guy could possibly be mature or stimulating enough to hold my attention. High school taught me that, since every man who ever showed interest I eventually shot down because eventually they were no longer able to keep me intrigued—this is what lead to me never having a boyfriend. Ever.

During freshman week, every guy that made a move on me reinforced that belief. That is, until I met Sam.

I thought I had men figured out by the time I left high school and I was starting to truly believe that falling in love just wasn’t in the cards for me. I still laugh at myself and my morbid thought of what I was incapable of.

It was Freshman Week and I had met plenty of guys who very openly expressed their interest; but I wasn’t having any of it, every single guy was pushy and frankly, they were over-doing it. What happened to just being you and hoping for the connection? No, these guys were all wearing disguises and saying everything they felt they should say. But I’ve been through those guys before and I can see straight through their facades and into their cold eyes screaming that they only want one thing. And each guy I came across just reminded me why I never had, or even wanted, a boyfriend.

I was standing with my friend, Emily, while she chatted it up with a group of guys. I remained silent and thought to myself how sad it was that I’ve only been in college for three days and I’m already sick of the men.

As I sighed and looked the other way, that’s when I saw him; a tall, muscular, blonde-haired, blued-eyed man. That’s what got me; the fact that he was the first male I’ve seen that made me think ‘now there’s a man.’ It took me a few seconds to realize that he was on crutches with a big black boot on his left leg.

Without acknowledging any of his other friends we were standing with, he looked straight at me and said, “Hi, I’m Sam.” Little did I know, Sam would become that love that I had thought to be impossible; he would become everything.

His was the typical introduction; one I’ve heard from countless other people. But something about him intrigued me. I honestly cannot remember what we talked about; all I know is we looked around and everyone else had gone. Then we realized we had been standing there talking for about 45 minutes.

“Who is this?” is all I could ask myself when I walked away. And it’s all I continued to ask myself until I saw him next.

Sam and I hung out sporadically over the next several months. He took me to dinner, we saw movies…anything that resembles a typical date, that’s what we did; and I loved every minute of it.

Six months later, after a long courtship and a “you need to make your move, boy,” Sam finally developed enough courage to kiss me for the first time. And that’s what we did all night; just kissed. Sam is a gentleman in that way. He never disrespected me.

Two years later, Sam and I are still together and I have never been in a happier place than I am right now—although, I seem to say the same thing everyday. But I’ve learned that’s what love is; I didn’t “fall” in love because I never really stopped falling. I fall more in love every single day; with Sam, with my life, with my friends, with the thought of my future…I fall in love with everything I have overlooked since before him.

Don’t get me wrong; we have had our ups and downs—plenty of them. I’ve despised him one moment, then the next I am crying because I know I cannot picture myself without that man. Sometimes I think that we can never get past an argument, then the next moment he’s holding me and making everything better. But most of the time I’m smiling like a love-struck fool because I am in a constant state of unwavering bliss.

Throughout our relationship Sam has shown me that not every aspect of our love is going to be like a fairytale—but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a happily ever after. After all, he is my imperfectly perfect Prince Charming.

Sam is the reason I have opened myself up to the possibility of love, and he is the reason I have let love consume me.

I’ve learned that love doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, most the time it’s just the opposite. Never have I heard a story of love that was perfect from start to finish. But in a way, isn’t that what makes love flawless? The fact that when love is real it can make it through anything.

I know this all sounds a bit cliché but I’m finally starting to get it. It doesn’t have to be flawless…the timing can be all wrong…every little thing about the other person can get on your nerves…it can happen when you least expect it and make you think that something must be wrong, even when everything is right…they can drive you crazy…they can make you cry, laugh, smile, sing… they can make you the happiest person in the world then in a split second make it all come crumbling down. Despite all the imperfections, miserable moments, and the times when you feel like dancing, you’ll realize that none of that matters. In the end, love is love; and when it’s real, you never stop falling.

two years later…

It’s truly amazing how people change. It’s also amazing how people tend to stay the same. However, it’s not so amazing when one person is growing while the other remains rooted. And that’s what happened with Sam and I. And that’s why we broke up. That’s also why I am perfectly okay with it.

Our breakup happened nearly a year ago, but recently I’ve been reflecting on it and how happy I’ve become without him. What I felt for him was not real love. There is no way it could have been. I stand by what I said above–he taught me that I was capable of loving; but I now know that I am capable of a love so much deeper. A love full of fire and passion; intellect and understanding. A love that doesn’t hold back and endlessly motivates. A love that doesn’t require you to compromise your dreams; but rather a love that helps make those dreams a reality.

To anyone who is having a rough time going through a breakup, I have one thing to say: whatever you’re facing, there is promise for the ones who just hold on. There is something better.

 

photo credit- thoughtcatalog.com