I’m probably on like roughly my own Season
~4? It’s hard to tell (damn I hope it’s further through than that, I’m honestly
not sure I can deal with 5 more metaphorical seasons of heartache, buuuut stay
tuned)
you: Wait, what? She’s blogging again? Really?
OK yeah technically I’m no less single
than the last time you were probably reading this blog, but I am a lot more at
peace with it… true story.
Cheesy HIMYM references aside, I was unsurprisingly
a confused puddle of “WTF” the past few days because I was coming to terms with
the fact that I could partake in a mutual ending of a relationship based not solely
on feelings but rather based on what would be the most mature and healthy
option.
Me? having rational thoughts? I must be dreaming.
I assure you, I’m not.
We were happy the day before this
happened - we didn’t fight, nor did we have any other reason to end things
other than the fact I was moving 5 hours away and we both felt apprehensive and
unsure where this was going. So far, it’d been… well, fun. Great,
actually - some of you had maybe seen our adventures on IG, and without a doubt
I was the least anxious these last few months than I have been my entire life. Part
of me is very sad that this happened, but part of me is super grateful too.
Yes, I am grateful for this self-inflicted icky, stomach-dropping heart-pain
but strangely I can legitimately say I feel pretty okay.
The main thing was this: I was happy
with him, not just because I was with him.
This was the pinnacle of my forthcoming realisation. I was smitten by the idea
of stability. I adored how lovely it was to just have a companion that came
with minimal jealousy or mind games – here was a person that just wanted to
spend time with me as much as I wanted to spend time with them. The happiness
came from a place of respect and, admittedly, there was an element of awe at
how I could find someone who made me feel so comfortable with who I was.
It reinforced to me that in times of searching
for “the one”, we crave what we need at a given time, and if that doesn’t last,
maybe as young people we really just don’t need it to last?
I remember writing last year at a time I
was deeply reflecting upon dating and letting go of those we meet that
seemingly ‘tick all the boxes’, I wrote:
“These boxes are not finite. They are complicated and unexplainable and
exist in beautiful bouquets in thousands of other people. People also hold
these traits at different levels throughout their life.” I back myself and what
I said. His particular bouquet was brilliant, but I am still working on my own bouquet,
and neither of us felt at this point we had to combine for good. We still like
each other, and while that wasn’t enough to dive into long-distance, that’s OK.
Right now - at this very moment actually - I miss him, but he’s still my
friend, and weirdly, that’s enough for me. I don’t feel possessive or sad that
the nature of our close friendship might change. I’m just glad I got to be with
him when I was.
I remember getting DMs from a couple of mostly
older friends the day I blogged last year claiming that I wanted to be single
for a long time (link), and those people advised me that I shouldn’t close myself off to people who could potentially – accidentally - love me the way
I need to be loved. I was essentially avoiding putting myself in the vulnerable
position of being hurt again, and by facing that fear I’ve grown more than I
think I would’ve if I’d shut myself away. I’m almost comforted by this paradoxical
prideful-heartache I’m currently enduring. I feel like I’m a step closer to figuring
out what I need and how I’ll get there.
Whilst this blog was kind of formulated so I don’t
need to awkwardly (sadly) explain my relationship status in small-talk and
catch-ups, it’s also solidified the peace I have internally reached about the
decision we’ve made. As I’m sure many of you have experienced yourselves, I’m
struggling to unravel those intimate, automatic connections and associations I
have with him, but that will pass.
I’m glad I’m 5 hours away from Sydney in my
final year of medicine. I’m glad I’m here despite the sadness that might’ve led
to this point.
He brought me to a place where I can enjoy the
present and not anxiously obsess over the past, and I’m so grateful for that.
My present feels and looks pretty great (for
now)
(Haha sorry - I can’t help it, I’m anxious af.)
‘Till the next absurdly dramatised recount of my
life,
Mielz
x
