“So I think it’s best we both forget before we dwell on it“
It would be wrong to say it wasn’t love. How many times did I ask myself, “Is this what it is? Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” I remember telling my mother how much it hurt and how confused I was. We had been at it for so very long and never seemed to get it right for very long. We were exhausted. After one particularly difficult evening, I called her in tears; something she was getting accustomed to. She listened to me pour it all out, desperation behind my words. She sighed deeply and she said to me, “Baby girl, love takes hard work, but I don’t know if it’s supposed to be that hard.”
It was love, of this I am sure now. It’s something I would learn later in life; that there are many different varieties of love. They served a purpose, filled a void, had something to teach us. But two people do not always experience the same kind of love at the same time. It is an injustice of a sort when this comes to pass, but it’s something that just is.
We were the best of friends. We made so much sense. It was effortless when we weren’t trying so hard. I don’t know why getting married changed everything for me. It just did. It felt like a hand at my throat; gradually tightening its grip and robbing me of breath. You didn’t make me feel that way. You just went about things in your usual fashion. I felt a sense of panic; as though I had made some grave error of judgment, had put myself in a situation that could not be easily remedied. For the first time in my life, there would be no easy escape. I was terrified and I felt more alone than I had ever felt. You were so happy. It only made matters worse for me. How well could you know me when you didn’t see me drowning before your eyes?
It was love, for so very long. It was a pair of well worn comfortable slippers. You were always there, trying to pull me from the darkness. You loved me because it seemed natural for you to do so. You loved me because you had promised to do so. You just loved me and you did it the best you could.
I held on to you for too long. The fits, the stops and starts, I was in control of all of them. I pushed you away until I felt like pulling you back and you just allowed it to happen all over again because you loved me and you loved me well. When I came back, it all made sense to you. It was the reward for all of your tireless loyalty, all of your dreaming. Unfortunately for both of us, it was a castle made of sand. It wasn’t long before the tide rolled in and destroyed our work. It happened again and again and for all of my crying, for all of exasperation, I couldn’t figure out why.
One day I had my answer: I just didn’t love you the same way you loved me. You loved me with all of you. I loved you because you loved me so well. My holding on to you was an act of selfishness disguised as deep friendship. You deserved someone who loved you back the way you loved. I needed someone who made me happy in every way. That’s all there was. So I decided to let you go, at long last. It was an act of mercy that was long overdue.
As we lay there holding one another, hot tears falling down our faces, I said to you, “You really are such an amazing guy. You’re just not my guy.” It finally fell out of my mouth, the right words. They tumbled easily, but fell so hard upon us. It wasn’t what your heart wanted to hear, but it set you free in a way. All those years of wondering why I wasn’t content and why we weren’t moving forward.
It would take some time before you began to feel the lightness of this new freedom. Your love would not be so easily undone. But you let me walk out of your life and you wished me the best and you did it with your signature grace.
All of these years later, we can better appreciate what we had in one another. We can also see that when we let it go, we did right. It was a life lesson that was not so easily gained. It was something that we both survived in our own way. It’s the kind of love that will always reside in our hearts. It deserves such treatment.
Of Monsters and Men – Love, Love, Love
this was written by Tara Noble. her name is Tara Noble. this was not written by Aric S. Queen – that’s my name. and I did not write this. she’s written fifty-four more of these. Tara Noble has. not Aric S. Queen.