Hope was the weapon of fools

When talking to a friend about discovering "late" into adulthood, how important it was to be loved, I was reminded of how much I was able to grow over the years. Genuine love can help you blossom into the best version of yourself. It can help you hope. It can help you achieve things you never thought you could (or never thought of). It can help you heal or at least soothe your deepest wounds. It was love who helped me get the best care for my mental health and realize I needed it. It was love that helped me become the person I am today, the love I have for others, and the genuine love others had for me. Not so long ago, I couldn't even assert myself or make decisions because I thought it wasn't my place to do so, and it didn't matter because I didn't matter anyway. I couldn't even pick up where to sit at a restaurant... Today? I'm back to being myself and choosing for myself! I  also watched others transform for the best, once they found love or allowed themselves to love again.  I love it! I love watching someone getting genuinely loved and cared for. 

Don't get me wrong, love is not going to solve issues, and it won't bring back what's been lost and can't be replaced like a loved one, but Love will soothe and help us carry on.  Love isn't a magic solution, and it's not going to solve everything. I still have suicidal ideations, despite all the love and care I have. I still suffer from mild anxiety and clinical depression. I still have other little moments of anger, weakness, and frustration, but my heart is soaring! I feel so much better! I met wonderful friends, and I am able to do things I couldn't dream of doing before. I also realized the difference between fake love and genuine love and how they're worlds apart. I guess you have to learn the hard way, so you can keep the lesson etched in your very soul. 

I noticed yesterday while talking to my friend,  that one of the positive changes that happened within me was about Hope. I grew up with Hope in my heart until I reached adolescence. I used to think that "Hope was the weapon of fools." In my mind, a long time ago, being hopeful was seen as a recipe for disaster due to the constant heartbreak and betrayal. I thought I was wrong to be hopeful, and I would be punished for daring to dream of something better. So I tried not to be and instead remained a "practical and realist" person. 

In truth, I was unable to recognize the self-destructive patterns I had been engaging in. I was unable to realize that those I surrounded myself with did not have my best interests at heart at the start of my adult life. I couldn't see the strength and capability I already possessed within me. I simply killed hope and kept doing it so it wouldn't grow in my heart. This way, if I were disappointed, I would reframe it in my head as a reality check.  It was simply Life unfolding as it was supposed to be. Such a simple trick! 

Then, I grew out of those bad relationships, and I slowly but surely picked myself back up, thanks to the genuine love I received. Little by little, I realized that what I mistook for "reality" were simply the self-realized prophecies and bad company fueling my insecurities, depression, and anxiety. It was a lack of reassurance and security mixed with low self-esteem and other fragilities. It wasn't "Fate" or "Punishment" for being alive. It was none of these things. It wasn't even me. 

How could it be me when I shrank myself to please others? How could it be me when I quieted my voice and ignored my needs and desires because it would be an inconvenience to others? How could it be me when I gave up on myself because I listened to those telling me that I would never amount to anything? Voices telling me they loved me when in truth they wanted to push me to my grave? (That might never be a story I would tell). It took me a long time, a lot of work, and a great deal of support to finally detangle everything and escape the sharp claws of self-destructive patterns I was stuck with. 

Love, genuine and kind love, helped me see that I wasn't valued before. Love from others made me find myself again. It made me accept myself the way I forgot how to. It made me hope again. I dared dream again. I dared assert myself again, and my favourite thing is that I learned that "yes, I could be loved for who I was!" I found myself feeling hopeful again, and this time,  oh, I truly cherish the ability to do so. I no longer feel the same way as I did decades ago. I realized that Hope was resilience and a fuel to do better... to be better. Love brought back Hope. Love helped me get back to myself. And I think that it's one of the testaments of how being genuinely loved could help, and I wish, I really wish that everyone would experience true love, and that I will keep moving in the right direction and be the better version of myself. 

 

allow yourself to be loved!

Quote of the day: "There's got to be a moment when you realize that you should allow yourself to be loved." <--- Brought to you by my sweet-sweet David. S.

I personally think he must be hitting his head against the wall because it's not the first time he said that lol. But you're right, boo. There is "building walls around your heart" to make sure you're not getting hurt as bad as you have been before and there is "I'm running away from people who love me or potentially can" because you can't fathom the possibility that someone actually cares about you. I can't speak for everyone, I can only speak for some with a traumatic and violent past, someone who would be caught dead with a knife rather than accept other people positive feelings for them. Because it stems from various fears. Fear of not being enough, fear of being too much, fear of being abandoned, fear of being deceived, fear of being unable to return those feelings because we don't feel worthy of them. the list can get longer or shorter, it depends on people and where they are at life.

It is even more upsetting because it does follow you around, even when you have turned your life for the better. Even when you escaped from the cycle of abuse, surrounded yourself with trusting and loving friends, plucked out the negative people from your life...it still follows you like the plague. it's crippling at times, overwhelming too because you can't really enjoy your relationships as they are because there is this little voice in your head anticipating the end. But don't worry, talking usually helps clear the mind and appease the soul. Talking truly is the best for those of us with anxiety issues because it does defuse a lot of bombs and it helps us see our reality better. So say, you're better now with better friends but romantic love still is a big issue.

What then?

Then you have people like David, who will remind you that, you can't possibly cut yourself off of romance, especially when you want some and when you're ready for it. You can't wait for the perfect significant other to happen because love (and life) is messy and unexpected. It never goes the way you want it to and sometimes it's actually better. Love, for a control freak like me, is something very difficult to allow because there is little to no control you can have. there is little one can do but just feel and this is it, this is the nail the hammer has to hit: You (we) have to allow yourself to feel.

So let's try this.

It's okay

I thought I would have forgotten about you by now. It would have been so much easier for me to just ignore everything that happened between the two of us. Unfortunately, this isn't how life works. I tried to forget you, I really did try hard but I could never pull that off. I don't know, it probably had something to do with you always being in my mind? Whenever I tried to move on, I found myself attracted all over again to you, to your words, to your voice, to your presence. I still remembered how it felt when you were next to me, the electricity in the air, the smiles we exchanged, the warmth of your words, the warmth of our laughter, I was in a dream. 

I was in a dream where you would be there next to me. You would talk to me, cradle me, comfort me and protect me. I was in a dream where you would have been there for me. I know I'm asking a lot, I'm probably asking way too much from you. After all, how can you comfort me, tell me that everything would be alright when you yourself are a mess? It can't be, it can't happen this way. I have to be the person who would pick myself back up and I have to be my own savior. I can't wait for someone to magically fall into my lap and take me away from my misery. With that said, I still think of you.

You're not a savior, not at all. You could have been a companion if you were honest about how you felt and who you really are. I don't want artifices, I don't want pretense, I just want the truth. I want your truth. I see you for who you really are but I am not sure you really want to see yourself in the same light. It's not difficult to understand, but it surely is difficult to live through. I get it. I'm not mad at you for not being ready to see yourself as you truly are. I do have to acknowledge that you never tried to lie about your circumstances. You've always been very clear about what you wanted, what you were going through, and what you didn't want. You have always been very clear about what you were looking for, in me, in us...But you thought you were sly and that we were looking for the same thing but we weren't. I wanted something serious. I wanted something real. I wanted something that mattered. I didn't want to be a sexcapade. I didn't want to be one number on your cell phone. I didn't want to be that sweet and naive conquest you had when you came to my town. I wanted to mean something else, something more. 

But all of this looks so... trivial now. I do dream about you, sometimes. I do read your words again, sometimes. I do feel your presence and your breath and your smiles... sometimes. I surprise myself thinking of the next time we would meet and how I would behave but this time is different. I am not looking forward to being with you anymore. this... I have understood it could never happen. We are not meant to be and it's okay as well. I miss your touch, but it's okay too. I miss your voice and your humming and good mood and your passion.. but it's okay too. I'm honestly trying to find my way through this, move on from where we were. move on from my dire need to be with you. I am fully aware that I deserve better, that if it didn't work out when we met, then it just wouldn't;  We both know it's true. We both know we can't plan on the comet and wish it'll come true and solve our issues. it's not how the world works and it's okay too.

With that said...I am thinking of you. Of your touch, of the kisses we would never share, of the hugs we wouldn't share either -not as much as we could that's for sure-. I think of your laughter and of how much we've been talking over the phone and we won't be doing it anytime soon. It's okay, I have other people to talk to. I don't depend on your calls and I've learned better not to count on you. You weren't there when it was important. people saw, people read. people know. you weren't there and I can't pretend you were. I was deeply hurt and upset that you didn't show up and didn't act half the decent man you were supposed to be. I hold it against you. You being a coward when it actually mattered that you weren't one.  It's who you are, it's okay. I understand. I don't want that in my life, not in a partner, but I understand.

Ultimately, I guess what I was trying to say is that I miss you. I really do. I miss everything that was "us" that happened last year. I miss everything that could have been "us" but would never be. I miss you and I think of you sometimes. I think of your kisses and your hugs and everything glowy and beautiful and bubbly about us but then I remember how dark things could get between the two of us and I remember how complicated our situation is and I remember how you behaved and what I need right now and later on in my life and then it becomes crystal clear that we're not good to each other and we're not meant to be more than friends.....And it's okay.

It's okay.

It really is.