I had hoped you would be everything I wanted, but you weren’t.
I overlaid my expectations on you to see if they would match up perfectly with who you are. Some things did, but most didn’t. That was on me.
Still, I stayed. Still, I told myself I should be flexible; I should adapt; I should learn a new way of loving.
And I did.
You inadvertently taught me that.
You pushed me to my limit and then asked me to keep going, and I did. I broke some of my own barriers, and while I certainly didn’t do it smoothly all the time, nor did I always get it right, I certainly gave it my all. I certainly tried.
Eventually, I grew tired. Sometimes I need a break from being outside of my comfort zone for too long. I need to pause, and process, and take things in, and understand, and heal, and grow, and move on. Often, I can continue on my journey with the same person, but that’s not how it was this time for me with you.
Pushing myself led me to experience new inner growth, but I also discovered that some types of pushing had the opposite effect: It led me into lies. I lied to myself, thinking that if I could only adapt a bit more, just one more tiny bit, I’d finally get it right.
But, who can truly define what it means to love the “right” way?
Love is not something we will ever get “right.” Love is something that we do, and there are many ways of doing it. My “right” way may not be good for you, and vice versa.
I learned that if it doesn’t feel good, something has to change; otherwise, I run the risk of deluding myself into being miserable the rest of my life. I run the risk of missing the exit and convincing myself that this is how it has to be, that I have to put myself aside to love someone more than myself.
There is a selfish love of self that is harmful to others–that’s not what I’m referring to. I’m referring to the radical self-love that is absolutely necessary to cultivate within us and for us before we are able to give others the love they need and deserve; the type of pure love that radiates from our core and is full of light.
When we lose sight of this radical self-love–like I did—we welcome in our own self-destruction. That’s why I needed us to part ways: I needed to regain my Self, and I couldn’t do it with you, unfortunately. I was blocked. I did all I could; I gave all I could give. My spirit, mind, and body had had enough.
I haven’t stopped loving you; I’ve simply shifted the way in which I do. And from this distance I am able to love you more fully than when I was right beside you. Trust me, it’s better from where I now stand, even if it sometimes hurts.
Now, my energy has shifted to focus on me again and on my next spirit-growth-spurt. Not the harmful, selfish kind of energy, but the radically loving energy that will help heal and restore my Self… And my memory of Us.
I wish it had worked. I wish you had been it.
But it didn’t. And you weren’t.
And that’s OK.
Photo by: Belén Alemán / Maui, Hawai’i