Wednesday, 3 October 2018

My life is apparently a flailing adaptation of How I Met Your Mother (but I sure hope I’m not as desperate as ol’ mate Ted)


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

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