Sometimes the art of letting go becomes crucial, and rather necessary when it comes to protecting yourself, and your heart and soul.
Things happen very fast.
From one moment to another, you find yourself meeting someone you think could be one true friend. From one moment to another, you find yourself meeting with that friend very often. You trust them and tell them your deepest secrets. You never think they could ever do you harm, in any way.
But then things happen very fast… And from one moment to another, you find yourself in front of a mirror crying your eyes out, thinking: “Why?”.
It is amazing, isn’t it? The way the heart can control the mind. The way emotions can win over reason. Why? Because we think we’ve found that one person. Because we think we are the ones this person has chosen to spend their time with. Because we think we have fallen in love, and we think they have, too.
And then a slight, delightful tickle rushes through our spines, as we feel light, pleasurable pressure on our chests. Our hearts beat fast, and our hands sweat a little. Our feet can’t stand still, as they feel like dancing. And our smile is so bright, it brightens up every person’s day when they see it.
We are happy.
We think there is nothing that could take that feeling away. We think there is nothing we could do for things to go wrong. Everything looks so idyllic in those little moments. Little moments we cherish, little moments we keep in our minds to remember. Because they’re tender. Because they’re sweet. Because they’re beautiful.
Just as beautiful as remembering what it feels like to hold hands, just as beautiful as remembering what it feels like to share a kiss. Just as beautiful as not having to worry about anything, because you feel safe in their arms. And we don’t want to forget about them because it hurts. Because if we forget about those little moments, it means they’re gone. It means we have to let go.
But once again, things happen very fast. So utterly, disgustingly, inadequately fast. And so you find yourself in front of the mirror, black mascara running down your cheeks, wondering: “Why? Where have I gone wrong? What did I do?”.
It mostly is one decision we made.
You knew you had that choice. But you wanted to meet him. Because seeing him made you happy. Of course, you didn’t plan to drink that much until you passed out.
You grab your smartphone and text him an apologetic message:
‘Oh my God, what happened last night? I’m so, so sorry I drank that much, I lost it, I’m so embarrassed!’.
Seconds go by, your nervousness is at its maximum.
Your hands sweat, your fingers tremble and so does your jaw. But you hope he’ll understand. Seconds transform into minutes. Minutes to hours. Eventually, you’ll try again with a better apology:
‘Please, I’m really sorry. Let’s meet and talk this out. I’m embarrassed and didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I want to apologize in person, but I need you to answer the phone first, so we can discuss where and when we meet. Please.’
During that time, you have texted your best girlfriend, and she has told you this one thing that has taken you months to realize:
“What do you mean he wasn’t with you when you needed him? What do you mean he left you when you were fighting for staying conscious? You don’t do that to a friend. If you see they’re in trouble, you stay with them and try to help them out.”
It hits you, she’s right:
“He was my friend. Why did he leave me? I had too much to drink and I started throwing up…”. But because it hurts way too much to see the awful truth, you make up excuses for him: “Surely it wasn’t a nice scene to look at… And he was not my babysitter that night, I can understand why he left…”.
Why? Because emotions have taken over reason and you think you’ve found that one person. Because you think you have fallen in love, and you think they have, too. Because you think they’ll understand. You hope they’ll understand. You dream they’ll understand.
Every time the phone vibrates, you hope it’s a message from them, asking you a simple ‘How are you doing?’. You rush to your mobile, see it’s another person, and you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Your answer, throw your device away, and hope the next text you get is going to be from that special guy. Stop lying to yourself. Hours have come to be days, days have become weeks, and weeks – months. And still no word from him.