As the seasons change ...

I’d just left your flat that Monday morning to start another mundane week at work. And as I turned the corner, I saw the pavement full of dried yellow leaves. Autumn was well and truly here. We were so hidden away in our little cocoon all weekend, we didn’t even notice how dry and windy it had been outside.

I guess that’s really the kind of relationship we have - lost in our own special little world, completely unknown to the world around us.
I still remember the first time we met, drinking wine on a cold spring evening, the last traces of winter still crisp in the night air. 

We didn’t even realise how that spring changed into summer, and now summer's given way to autumn.
And that’s what made those beautiful yellow leaves on the ground so very special - they were a sign of yet another change of season. A sign of how long we’ve been together.




A year ago, I was eagerly awaiting the end of the cold and lonely winter months. And now, I can’t wait for it to arrive. I can’t wait to cuddle up on the couch with you, drinking mulled wine by the Christmas tree, and watching re-runs of sappy holiday classics.



I can’t wait to stand outside in the freezing cold, with your arms wrapped around me, gazing at the fireworks lighting up the sky on New Year’s Eve, as we count down to the close of the most important year of our life.

And as the clock strikes midnight, I’ll kiss the man I want to usher in every New Year with from here on out....

The last of us ...

It’s over. Finally. It’s well and truly over.
And I’m not glad, or sad, or relieved. I’m not anything really.

All I’ve got is this really unsettling, hollow, sinking feeling.
Like the one person who could fix anything - anything - was just taken from me.
Like the tether that was holding me above the surface has finally broken.

I could be having the worst of days, but just talking to you would somehow make it all better.  You were my rock. You were the cornerstone of my life these past couple of years.
You were my refuge from the storm.

So much of the person I am today was based on how I felt about you. You weren’t my first love - the innocent, ever-lasting, anything-can-happen love.
You were my second. You were the one my guarded heart took a chance on. The one I was ready to trust no matter how badly it hurt the first time.
You taught me to believe in love again. And I knew I could always turn to you when I felt lost. You were my North Star guiding me home.

You were never mine to keep, but the love I had for you was. All those memories of my time with you - sitting by the river with the warm summer’s breeze and the stars shining brightly in the night sky - that was my happy place.
And I feel like I just lost all of that.

I thought I was letting you go that day in the spring over three years ago, as we said our goodbyes at the door of your flat. And as I walked towards the train station, towards a life without you, I never once looked back.
But I realise now, you didn’t need to be physically present to be a part of my life.
You were here all along. Every single day.
When I felt the need to tell you how my day was, to tell you about the boy I was dating, or the meal I cooked for lunch on a Sunday afternoon - to share not only the most important milestones from my life, but all of the boring mundane details of my everyday.
All that incessant texting throughout the day, 5 am phone calls just to catch up - you weren’t here but somehow, you always were

Until one day two weeks ago, when I was sat on my couch, talking to you on the phone, and I felt nothing. For the first time in all these years, I felt nothing at all. The sheer sound of your voice didn’t fill my heart with a longing to run towards you. To forget everything and fly halfway across the world to somehow make it work between us.

Through all these years, if I ever sat down to ask myself what would make me happy, truly happy, I knew it wasn’t where I was living or my friends or my job. It was you. It’s always been you.

And now, I no longer know.

It’s a strange, sinking feeling. Like I no longer know where my happy is.
No longer know where I belong.
I no longer know where home is ...

Sure the world’s my oyster, but when you’ve got no one to share your every day with, it can be an incredibly lonely and frightening place ....

All the wrong people

We aren’t afraid of getting involved,

we’re afraid of getting hurt

We aren’t afraid of exclusivity,

we’re afraid of losing out on back up options

We aren’t afraid of commitment,

we’re afraid of loneliness

We aren’t afraid of falling in love,

we’re afraid of having our hearts broken

We aren’t afraid of getting married,

we’re afraid of ending up with the wrong person ...

And after years of meaningless words and empty promises,

And failed relationships with all the wrong people,

Who can blame us anyway ... ?

Better be running ..

Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion or it will be killed.

Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve.

It doesn't matter whether you're the lion or a gazelle - when the sun comes up, you'd better be running..

Change

“ And here’s a big part of the journey:

recognising that just because something is, that doesn’t mean that it’s right.

Having the courage to change when you know you should,

even when that change is difficult ... ”

"I sometimes wonder, poets, singers, painters.. how do they do it?

They haven't lived my life. Yet they speak of things that only I know or feel. My darkest thoughts, my most cherished memories, my moments of depression, my dreams... They pass it off in the tersest of phrases

Is my life so ordinary, that the broadest brush strokes can describe it?

Or is it so extraordinary, that they can make a living out of it?"

Do you ever truly get over someone?

As I look around myself, I see people go from dating to steady long term relationships, to either marrying each other or breaking up. All in pursuit of that elusive thing known as love.

And I can’t help but wonder, as you fall in and out of love with people, do you ever really stop loving them?

Imagine walking down the street and bumping into an ex from five years ago. Sure you’re both leading different lives now, and they’re probably not the person they were back then. But isn’t there always a piece of your heart that never stops feeling the same way about who they used to be? A part of you that’s still twenty years old, still dreamy eyed about this new and exciting relationship, about this idea of the person they used to be.

Even if it’s someone you’ve had a fantastic date with, and, for some reason, never heard from again. Is it really that easy to simply switch off how you felt about them that one evening, and move on? Or is there a small part of you that can remember their crooked smile, or their brown eyes, or the way their lips touched yours as you leaned in for your first kiss, oblivious to the rest of the world around you?

Social norm dictates that when things are over, the only way to move on is to totally and completely get over someone. But realistically speaking, is that ever possible?

Do you ever truly get over someone who was such a significant part of your life, whether it was for four years in your twenties, or for four hours one evening?

I see people struggling in new relationships because a piece of them is still stuck with someone from their past, and we’ve all been raised to believe this is impermissible.

But wouldn’t it be a lot easier if we were able to accept that there isn’t really anything wrong with that? That the fact that you were capable of loving someone so fully and unselfishly, of letting them be a part of your very being, is, in fact, the only right way of being with someone? 

Because, at the end of the day, that person doesn’t exist anymore. That relationship is over. And nothing good can come out of forcing ourselves to stop feeling a certain way about them. Nothing good can come out of trying to replace an old lover with a new one.

If you find yourself trying to compare the person you’re with with your ex, or feel like you would still give them another shot if they want to get back together with you, you’re clearly not ready to start something new.

But if the only problem is that there’s a part of you that still respects and loves someone you used to be with, but doesn’t want to be with them anymore, it doesn’t necessarily have to take away from your present.

Who we are as a person is a product of our experiences. And great dates and ex lovers are a significant part of that.
And as long as we are capable of truly and completely giving ourselves to the next person we’re with, that’s all it should take to tell us that we’re ready for the next great adventure.