People come into our lives unexpectedly, and suddenly, we see the world through a new lens and gain a whole new perspective on life. Sometimes those people teach us that it’s okay to let people in and start over on learning what trust means and how it’s built. The hard part of this is the fact that people come and go, but there are only a select number of them that will truly make a difference in our future. Those who make a difference aren’t always destined to be on our path forever, and we can’t control the fact that people or our circumstances can change in a heartbeat. This reality can leave a feeling of anxiety because things are, well… different.
I can still remember the way you looked at me when we first met and started to get along. Our energies together danced in sync, like a pen glides on paper. Every moment felt so free and refreshing, like the sun feels on your skin on a beautiful summer day. Without even knowing it, we became each other’s comfort zone. We let out every little feeling and discovered the intentions of planting a seed given for us to grow something new, something beautiful and untouchable. All the different perspectives were fulfilling. We saw the good and the bad, neither one of us running away. A commitment to always be there.
Then, one day it all started to become shadowy. Day after day, week after week, your eyes no longer had a hunger for my insight or my presence. Your demeanor, when I walked in the room, was like I had just interrupted an important business meeting. I can see you trying to hold onto the connection with the strength you have left while reminding yourself that people cross paths for a reason.
Then I realized that a genuine connection is like catching lightning in a bottle – it has a way of lighting up our soul’s like nothing else does. We want to rest and find peace in the hope that it will be this way forever.
Now here we are, feeding into a faint connection while doing everything we can to brighten the light we once had. We’re both in need of space, but what will that mean? We’re both full of love, being led by fear but not understanding the uncertainty of both. This leaves us chasing each other in circles, trying to catch one another before the other one falls. We know that’s not our job, but if we don’t show up for each other, what will we be?
You’ve changed, and I’m holding on to the feeling that it’s because of something I’ve done and I’m mentally exhausting you in the process of trying to prove that. I can’t stop thinking that maybe if I am able to identify what “went wrong,” I can save what it feels like I’m losing. No matter how many times you say, “It’s not you,” I can’t help but hear the loud screams of my intuition, or the shadow of my insecurities that are whispering to me that you’ll leave, and never look back. That things will change. As I debate what voice to listen to, I overlook the truth of this being what we wanted in the first place – to grow, to change, and to help each other get there by adding perspective into each other’s lives.
This seed that we planted together has our roots growing in different directions and I’m learning to be okay with that. Seeds aren’t planted so that the stems can grow in the exact same way. The beauty of how they became stems in the first place is what gives the connection meaning. As long as we continue to water the plant, the more opportunity it has to grow.
Have you ever felt like everything and everyone around you is changing and slipping through your fingertips too quickly? Like you’re stuck on the feeling of what used to be, so it’s causing you to wonder where you went wrong? What you could have done differently? “Maybe if I would have just…” Yeah, me too.
This world is a very confusing place, and for some reason, I always feel like I’m in two places at once with respect to my emotions. I’ve come to realize that this is because I am very nostalgic. For many people, experiencing nostalgia comes in waves. Like when you hear a song that reminds you of a specific period of time in your life, almost making you able to relive that memory. For me, it’s my reality. It’s what gives me perspective. It’s what allows me to see the big picture of things. It allows me to be understanding. It reminds me to be grateful. It helps me be a better writer. It’s what gets me in trouble emotionally.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always loved the start of something new. The excitement of the beginning of a new movie, relationships, or even the start of a new day is the adrenaline I thrive on. I love the excitement of the unknown and I have always been loyal in searching for more in everything I commit myself to. I’m always so compassionate in whatever I am invested in that it can make me naïve to the fact that all of it can change within the blink of an eye. Most of the time, there’s nothing we can do about that, but not being in control of where things are headed doesn’t always need to be taken negatively.
We don’t get a say at how long it will be before a connection takes a new direction, but we do get the choice of continuing to nurture it in the best way we can to make it fruitful and valuable. I’ve come to learn that I don’t do well with change, and I sure as hell don’t do well with the overwhelming thoughts of where I’ll be left in someone’s story or if they’ll soon be a missing piece in mine. You can call me selfish for saying that, but I can’t help reflecting on the marks that people have made on me and the anxiety I feel when the light of connection starts to dim. But I’m working on it, I promise… I’m working on it.