It’s been a while.
I’ve realised my flaw but I’m learning to embrace it. I fall too hard and too fast for people. The moment I feel a spark, I run head first into the flames, forgetting about the burns I will suffer thereafter.
It wasn’t your fault, I tell myself. I would have rather loved than have never loved at all, I used to muse. Now, I’m wondering if the pain of loving was worth it.
To begin with, it probably wasn’t love. It felt more like hope. The warm comforting sense that I will never be alone. As the days passed, I let myself believe that perhaps this was my moment, this is what I have been longing for. The desire was so great that it blew common sense and wisdom to shreds.
As I look back, I wonder to myself if I had missed something. Did I read too much into things? Maybe I did not turn out to be the person you assumed I would be, or could you have lost interest because I came across as easy. Were you afraid of committing and being hurt because I was about to fly? These are the things that have been crossing my mind the past two weeks.
Where did the sparks go? They felt real to me. I wonder if you told other people the things you told me. I miss the conversations. The banter. The sense that someone could have possibly cared more than as a friend for me. I was a girl you took notice of, and then I wasn’t. Was it easy for you? I always ask myself that. Because you didn’t seem like the type to talk to random girls and agree to go for coffee with them.
It was my fault though. I let myself believe that you actually cared more than you did. I let myself hope that things could work out. I let myself believe that you were interested. I was foolish 5 years before and apparently, I’m still as foolish now. I cannot date a nice guy. A nice guy will only be a nice guy. He will let me down because he will say yes to coffee but not because he is interested but because he doesn’t want to break a nice girl’s heart. It happened 5 years before. I don’t know if it has happened again.
I hate how much of an idiot I must have appeared to you. I want to take back my words, the things I’ve said, the things I wanted to do and have done.
I’m glad to be flying in two days. I’m glad because I’m running away. I’m running back into the arms of someone who truly loves me. I am sad to be running though, because if I had chosen not to leave, perhaps you would have stayed. But staying is not an option for me, you’re not my end goal or part of my mission. He has beckoned me from beyond the deep and I have responded. I will always respond, I have no other choice.
I will cry when I leave. I have never cried when I left in the past but I will cry this Sunday. Not for you. Not for me. But for my friends that I have made that I may not see again, for my stubbornness in still wanting to stay, for my brokenness wanting to be whole again.
You haven’t broken my heart but you have broken me. I keep thinking about the constant in situations like these. There are only two. There is me and there is Him. Previously, I pushed you guys away. And I ended up alone. This time, I chose to jump in. I still ended up alone because you pushed me away. If it is not me, it is Him. If it is not Him, then it is me. I don’t want to give up on hope yet. I’m still young, I have been told, but the reality is I don’t believe what they tell me. I wake up every day and I choose to believe that there is hope for me. That it wasn’t me, it was Him.
He answered my deepest cry, the prayer I prayed reluctantly. He heard me and took you away because I asked Him to. So now, my heart aches because I have let you make your home in my heart where you don’t belong. As I head on to Wales, I will let Him fill my heart, like the rainwater filling up the empty lakes, like the flower turning her head to the sun.
When I come back, I will not be bitter. I will be happy. I will look at you and smile, I will tell you well done, I’m happy that you have been happy. And I will climb the difficult routes, conquering my fears, soaring higher, reaching beyond your expectations.
I will be new.
