I had to say goodbye to someone who swept me off my feet. I fell hard. Very hard. In the best way – the real way – the way that it is healthy to fall. I’m still falling and I’m not holding back. I’m allowing the emotions to churn, and the tears to fall, and the missing to happen…but also allowing the space to breath, to be me, and for you to be you. Like we said when we said goodbye, you’ll be back, and I’ll be here. I’ll come visit you. I’ll send you positive vibes each morning when I wake. I’ll pretend like you’re sleeping next to me. It’ll be okay.
All this mushy-gushy love stuff got me thinking…thinking about the idea of “completing me”. When most of us get into a relationship, we say something along the lines of “he/she just completes me”…as if we aren’t “whole” without someone else. Or maybe, if we say this in each relationship, when it eventually fails, do we lose that part of ourself? Only to continue to search for that wholeness with someone else? Eventually, maybe, finding someone who will stay in our life and keep us whole? I don’t get it. That doesn’t make much sense to me.
I want to be whole with or without someone else. I am whole. I want to be with someone else who is whole. Together, we make a great team…but without each other, we are still a person, a whole person. We do not lose value if we are alone. If anything, I think there is something more wholesome about being alone, about being single. You, if you take the time, learn an awful lot about yourself. There is a cliche quote that I really think is perfect for this idea, “you can’t truly love someone until you love yourself”…and how could you love yourself if you only view yourself as a part – not whole – because you haven’t yet been “completed” by someone else? I don’t think you can.
Even though I rationally, logically, understand this, I’m still having a hard time with you gone. I still miss you. I still wish you were here. I still think about how I won’t drive past you and maybe I should stop paying attention to the cars on the other side of the road, because I know it won’t be you, so I know I have nothing to look forward to. Or when I get off work, I find myself wishing I could call you to come over and cuddle with me, rub my back, tell me that one day, we’ll just go adventure together. But I can’t call you and tell you to come over because you’re not here. You’re not available. But I’m going to go to work, eat dinner, go to sleep, wake up, and do it all over again anyway. I’m still whole. I’m still living my life. Sure, I’d prefer it if I was living my life with you living yours a bit closer to me, but that’s okay.
There is something beautiful about missing someone. There will be something even more beautiful about us reuniting. I will wait for you, romantically, emotionally, but not physically. I will go on with my life as if you aren’t here, because you’re not here. I am still complete, even with you gone. But when you’re back, I’ll be like…200% complete? There goes the logic. There is the love.