Love doesn't let go, We do

Love doesn't let go, We do

I keep telling myself that it was complicated.  That there were bigger things than just me and him.  But then I think back to a long drive through the night talking about things you talk about with the person you love, you know, the stuff they write about in songs: secrets, fears, aspirations, and dreams.  My memory is only granting me small pieces of what once was, but I can’t imagine anything more important than those moments with him.

A message to the things that are actually more important than love: I’m sorry, but I don’t think you are more important than love.

In thinking things over in my head, i’m letting things run through my mind in an effort to try and work things out, to find closure, to stop loving someone I should not love… I’ve come to believe that love is not complicated.  I think, like with most things, when you love someone… nothing can get in the way of that.

I think when we let things get in the way of love—when we throw up our arms and say “It’s complicated,” we are just looking for excuses to justify giving up.  I think there is something in our being that wants us to believe outer forces have caused the failure of our relationships rather than the failure in one or both ingredients that is necessary for love: The me and the you. 

Distance… Careers… Religion…Timing…

For a while, I wanted to believe that the universe didn’t want my relationship to work out.  I wanted to believe it was out of my control - that neither of us had the power to make things really work out between us.  I wanted to see it as a beautiful mess, a romantic tragedy.  I think he did too.

I think I wanted to believe that love wasn’t enough instead of believing that someone just didn’t love me enough.

I’m a firm believer in if you know what you want, you do everything you possibly can to get it - and if you have what you want and love, you keep it.  If you have a passion, if you have a person, a someone who means the world to you… You hold on and you don’t let go.  If there is love, call it magic, call it pixie dust, call it anything, between two people, you don’t give up when things get complicated.  You adjust, you work, and you earn the right to keep the love you know you don’t want to live without.

It’s time to stop lying to myself; we weren’t a romantic tragedy.  We just didn’t love each other like we thought we did.

It’s hard.  I’m still haunted by him. Sometimes I see his face in a crowd on 42nd street only for it to disappear when I look again.  I hear a song and I think of us dancing, carefree in the living room.  I hear a dad-joke and I think of him and his laugh.  I feel cold, and I think about how warm he was.  I think about everything I learned from him…How much more selfless I am because of him.  It’s hard. I admit I’m not completely over him; I’m still recovering.

But I’m taking some baby steps forward. My days aren’t gloomy and sad like days can seem to the heartbroken. I still sing love songs in the showers.  I still dream of meeting the man I’ll cook breakfast with in my underwear and adopt a dog with.  And all the while, I still get around New York City on my own - I still appreciate the people watching at Washington Square and the buskers that sing about warmer weather.  I still love love.

So - maybe my heart is broken, but it’s still beating.  I’m taking all of my vitamins to help accelerate the healing…

And for the record, love *is* enough.

"L.E.S. Artistes" by Santigold

It All Started When...