Getting out of a relationship is like a sudden loss of balance, finding yourself hanging at the cliff of a grandiose mountain top. It’s like losing grip of all the breathtaking pleasure, entering into a painful form of adrenaline rush. It’s being thrust upon a critical depth, knowing you have no one to save you but yourself.
Once you’ve gathered enough strength to pull yourself up from the deathly pit, moving on inevitably follows. Moving on entails taking charge. It’s being captain of the ship, shepherd to the sheep. It is both an end and a start. It is a chance and an excuse to discern about and indulge for yourself. It naturally begins with acceptance, is governed by time, and results in forgiveness. It’s finally submitting to the decision to take the first step downhill.
After much time, and believe me it takes time, you’ll think that you’ve moved on. You’d constantly say you’ve finally let go. It may seem that you have convinced yourself after months of monologue. I tell you. Unless you have found that one person who would hike up a different mountain with you again, you’re still loitering on that previous mountain. You may say that it’s actually better this way. But deep down, you would always know that it’s not happier; the present “happy” just lies on a different angle.
I know waiting is hard. It eats up your self-esteem, your confidence, not to mention your patience. It would make you think of things that would probably lead you towards Pathetic Street right across Depressing Avenue. But you see, though you do not have much of a choice, waiting does lead to new opportunities. It makes everything a little bit more special. It prepares us for what comes ahead. It gives us better chances to grow. Waiting is an active pause, pun intended.
Yes. I am able to blurt these things out because I myself is in the waiting hall. After wearing my heart on my sleeve and getting it broken, I wait. As impatient as I am, I wait.
I wait for the day when I would find my bestfriend and my lover wrapped into one. I wait for the day when I could share to my family wonderful tales about how true love finally worked its magic on me. I wait for the day when I would travel to places with my hand interlocked with my beloved partner’s. I wait for the day when he would proudly hold hands with me while in the company of his family and friends. I wait for the day when I could be totally myself without having to worry what people might think, knowing he would always find me wonderful. I wait for the day when I could couldn’t care less about the world for I feel at home in somebody else’s side.
I wait for him who would look at me with loving eyes. I wait for him who would share the same passion I have for life. I wait for him who would tell me I am the world’s most beautiful woman in absolute silence. I wait for him who would offer me tender hugs and kisses that scream of affection. I wait for him who would surprise me even though I say I hate surprises. I wait for him who would be rowdy and outgoing with me, yet treat treat me like a lady. I wait for him with whom I would share laughter and tears. I wait for him whom I would engage in long conversations with. I wait for him who would gladly let his guard down and invite me into his world. I wait for him who would accept my imperfection and vulnerability, and love even more for them. I wait for him who would not hesitate to fight for me and our love. I wait for him who would still care even in times of disagreement. I wait for him who is worthy of trust; I wait for him who would not own me, but share in our freedom. I wait for him who would whisper me the words “I love you” and actually mean it. I wait for him who would not promise me forever, but would choose me to embark on a life-long journey with him…
I do admit. I got my heart broken. I am in the process of moving on. I still wait. I wait not for a happy ending, but a lifetime of content.
A light bulb suddenly switched on in my head. I thought of sharing this to everyone. From lexysparkles.tumblr.com :)