When you love someone, it’s incredible how many things trigger a memory. I walked into a restaurant last night, and Adele was singing a song that most people don’t really discuss, but it’s called Love Song. It’s so simple, yet haunting, but it made me reminisce the way songs do. Last time when J. and I broke up, I listened to so much sad music from A Fine Frenzy to Blu Cantrell to Whitney to Kirk Franklin. I couldn’t find any healing in any of the music, and music is my go-to. This time, I refused to listen to any music. I couldn’t stomach any genre, and resorted to quotes and writings from other broken hearted people. It was interesting to see how many people have been in a similar situation, and how in the end, we all felt the same. Blaming ourselves, questioning its validity at all, loving and hating simultaneously. I started to pin a million sayings on Pinterest into his own dedicated private folder, and followed so many poets on Instagram. But in the end, none of these helped either. It only confused me more because I started to remember the beginning through the almost end, when everything was perfect. He was perfect. For me a breakup consists of weird stages, but this one went like this:
• Complete heartbreak with full on screaming and crying, clutching my chest, called into work, couldn’t eat or drink
• Bargaining which consisted of hundreds of texts back and forth trying to understand and cope
• Seeking God in everything and begging for answers
• Numbness and realization that there was no hope
• Bargaining again
• His silence, then my silence
• First date since him, and then the closure email was written
Of course there are a few interchangeable stages in there or all at once. My poor pets were so scared, and never knew when I would just lose it and fling myself on my bed and throw an absolute fit. Dramatic, I know. I wasn’t getting the answers I needed from my family, friends, God, or him. I had just gotten to the point where I knew I could move past it all. I hadn't cried in a while, my heart still hurt, but it was moving on. And it was at the closure stage that I realized, this wasn’t really over in my mind. I didn’t want to let go, I wanted him to fight, to choose me. It wasn’t about emotions anymore or bargaining, it was that moment when Carrie sees Big in the closet of their penthouse, and she just runs to him. It was true love.
So my California dream would be to have him again, to be loved by him only the way he can. To know what was once right that went wrong, would somehow, someway become right again. Sometimes you have to weed out all the toxic people in your life, become private, and just breathe. No one can make your heart stop hurting except the person who hurt it. No one can tell you what you need to hear, no one’s experience can make your own experience better. However, I appreciate every person that gave me advice or shared their story because it gave me peace, and allowed me to see past my own pain to realize that in life we really are all quite similar. We all share pain, sadness, heartbreak, love, happiness, loneliness, confusion. We all have dreams that are broken, we have realities that are unforeseeable. We love, we hate, and we feel, we go numb, but at the end of the day, we are all alike, just humans searching for love, acceptance and peace. It’s pretty simple really, but life happens.
So today, I am dreaming of a life I was supposed to have that was stolen from me. I am dreaming of California, and all the possibilities that came with it. I can see the ocean, and smell the salt in the air, the breeze from the water. It's hopeful, and I feel peace in my dream, and I see his face smiling at me, loving me. I am dreaming of him and his love that made me so happy. It’s okay to be a dreamer, because life and reality will bring you back far too quickly. So dream while you can, hope for the unthinkable, do the unbelievable, and just find your happiness.
