Thoughts

Packing things when it's time to move always presents several challenges. For those of you blessed to have only moved a couple of times, you're lucky. For me, I have always felt as though I have always been at the mercy of the winds-always waiting for another to tell me where and when to go.
Anyways, as I was packing up my things, I was forced to go through all the old things that I stowed away-some needlessly, and some with good reason. Among other things, I found a letter I had written to J. It was a letter I never had the courage to give him, words that have been left unspoken for years, merely thoughts on paper. I should have just put it back in the box I got it and turned away. Or perhaps I shouldn't keep these things that haunt me and should throw them away altogether, but something prevents me from doing so.
When the other boxes were packed, I picked up those pages I had set aside and began to read it. It was a beautiful letter, and memories of our time together flooded back into my heart, memories I have long since wanted to forget.
It's a funny thing-I always tell people not to live in the past; it's not healthy for you. If you're always thinking about the past, you'll never live in the present, never look forward to the future. Yet there's something about everything that happened that I just can't seem to let go.

I think I know what it is, and I am hoping that talking about it will allow me to make sense of it all, to gather the courage to move forward and pray that true love is again possible.

Although I've spoken about this before, I want to give you a little picture of something. Have you ever truly loved someone? Truly? It's a feeling that poems and sonnets and cheesy songs and the romantic movie empire have all attempted to capture. Love is like the adrenaline rush after finishing first in a race or climbing the tallest mountain in the world. Actually, it makes you feel as though you could do anything-even climb that impossible mountain. You'd do it too; you'd brave every single step even if it meant loss of life and limb just to hold that person in your arms one more time or be held, or feel the gentle brush of their lips as they meet yours. That's love.

I cannot even do it justice, or try to describe what so many who have come before me have done ever so gracefully. All I can say is that, for a brief moment in time, it truly was like a dream. It was like everything I always imagined love can be. Nothing before and nothing since has even managed to touch it even for a moment.

As I go out on dates these days, and listen to the guys drone on and on about themselves, I want to laugh because all I can think about is the guy who asked me how I felt, what I liked, who I was.

I can still remember the soft touch of his hand as he touched my shoulder to ask me something. When I touch someone else on the shoulder, with not even so half a similar feeling or meaning, the guy shrinks away, or leans in closer because he thinks it means I want to sleep with him. It has no longer become a gesture of acceptance and notice.

People confuse my open, genuine nature with desperation. But I wouldn't settle for them; they wouldn't even come close to the love I've known especially as they criticize me or cut me off mid-sentence to talk about themselves some more.

Reading that letter today, I was reminded of the person he was, and
the person I was when I was with him. When things were good, they were really good. People who know him don't understand, but always remarked on our closeness, even after we were no longer together.
There was just something there and always will be.

I sit and ponder these things these days because I am only left with those lingering feelings of the past inside my heart. I am torn between letting those feelings go and keeping them safe in my heart, where no one will ever be able to touch them.

The only problem is, I can't seem to find anyone who touches my heart in the same place or even come close. I don't want to have to compare; I want the guy to blow my idea of something great out of the water, but it never happens. I guess in writing this, every guy who likes me and has access to this blog may be discouraged (and I realize this) … but the truth is, we should all want a love that is going to last. We should all want that bond that holds us together. We should all strive to love someone the way J and I did, even if it was just for a moment.

When I hear of people in real life (every day!) who are with people they don't love, or people they've settled for, or people they're unhappy with, I get really upset. I get upset because I know what real love is and I know that every person who's with the wrong person, is just making it more difficult for someone like me to find the right person.

Maybe my person is in a dead-end relationship and won't admit it to themselves. Perhaps they don't have the courage to get out of it or perhaps they won't ever have the courage to give me a try. Perhaps my person lives in another country or perhaps is married to the wrong person, constantly convincing themselves to give it "another try." Perhaps he has just been burned one too many times and is unwilling to take a chance … but perhaps when the time is right, he'll give me a chance to change his world forever.

I also want to admit something I've never told anyone before. People often ask me what initially attracted me to J. He's got an ego the size of NYC and though he is universally handsome, he continues to hold himself as his 1 priority. Well, the truth is, we had so much in common … he would read what I was thinking without me having to say anything. It's such a rare thing when you are truly understood. It was almost as if he'd finish my sentences for me because he knew what I was going to say. Even more importantly, he'd remember little things that I'd say months later. Even S, whom I lived with, didn't seem to remember the things I said or even what was important to me. But somehow, J did.

The thing I was going to admit is that … I remember him talking about his last girlfriend whom I actually knew pretty well. She was high maintenance and came from money, if you know what I mean. Our worlds couldn't have been more different. When he talked about their relationship, or talked about the things he wanted out of life, he had the saddest look of wistful longing on his face. Just as he'd understood me, I understood him. I understood that look. I could see the sadness in his eyes, even when he didn't say anything; he didn't need to. I always thought, in the back of my mind, that I wished for just a moment he would notice me (this was before we got together of course) because I wished that I could show him what he was missing out on in a relationship.

Of course, I ended up getting to do that, since we later got together. I was convinced that I could change J's life … and I think I did. Just as he changed mine…

Honestly, I'm glad that J and I didn't work out. I didn't really know who he was before I fell in love with him. Of course I probably wouldn't have fallen in love with him had I known. But it was a great experience because I learned so much from him. I feel as though we had our moment, and we taught each other the things we needed to. I taught him how to love another person, and opened the way for his new life now. He taught me how to appreciate myself and what to look for in another person, and to wait, even if it takes a lifetime, to find it again.

Ultimately, I don't know where my person is. I want to believe that he's out there, and his heart will be as loving as a deep and endless ocean. He'll wrap his arms around me, and on those moments when I am unsure what direction to go next or what decision to make, he'll pull me closer and tell me, "everything is going to be all right."