It’s a pretty hard thing to accept, but it’s the truth.
Now, I may or may not be slightly inebriated, but I have something I’d like to say regarding this fact.
A few things, actually. So brace yourselves.
First of all, let me just state, for the record, that I am probably one of the most persistent, affectionate, anxious, and organized human beings that has ever existed.
(In layman’s terms, I can be really pushy, clingy, and controlling.)
I’m not proud of it and I’m working on it, but it’s the reality of who I am right now. I push people when I see their potential, I cling to those I hold dear, and I’ve wanted to control every aspect of my life since I was a little girl.
(Consider this a formal apology to all of my siblings and childhood friends who have ever played house with me.)
To put it simply, I’ve left clawmarks on every person that has walked out of my life. Metaphorically speaking, of course. I don’t like when people leave. I don’t like the idea of knowing someone and then not. I don’t like letting go of a person that I care about, no matter how wrongly they may have treated me.
I just don’t like it.
But, I’m a woman now. Yes, I may still be a kid in some aspects, but in my twenty-one years of life, I’ve learned a thing or two about a thing or two. And letting go is, by far, the hardest of them all. It’s like… it’s like playing tug-of-war with a really dodgy rope. I know it sounds weird, but just bear with me. Imagine you’re playing tug-of-war with this really shitty rope, alright? Imagine that it’s wrapped and looped around your hands, and you’re just pulling and pulling and pulling with all of the energy your little body can muster. You can feel the rope digging into your hands. You can feel the flesh of your palms ripping. You can see the blood dripping onto the floor and smearing into the cracks of your fingers.
But you don’t care because you are determined to win this game of tug-of-war.
You won’t give up. Until, of course, you do. You finally let go. Your arms are aching and your lungs feel like they could explode any second, but it’s over. Yes, your hands are sore and bloody and raw, but now they can heal.
Isn’t that what it’s like to let go of a relationship? A friendship?
I know that it’s hard. It’s hard when all you want to do is keep trying and pulling and forcing.
But, at some point, just as it becomes less painful for your hands when you let go of the rope, it becomes less painful for your heart when you let go of a person.
And, hey, it’s okay to feel sad.
It’s okay to feel angry.
Its okay to feel guilty.
It’s okay to scream and to cry and to grieve and to hurt.
But you also have to remember that it is okay to let go of something or someone that is no longer good for you.
It is okay to heal.
And you know what? Maybe it’s not forever.
Maybe that friend that you left behind or that ex-boyfriend that didn’t have it together will somehow cycle back into your life.
That’s the thing about real connection, folks. Whether it be a friend, a family member, a significant other, or whatever, if a person is supposed to be in your life, it is my personal belief that they will always find their way back into it, regardless of how far they wander.
I read a really cool thing earlier this week, and here it is:
Recognize that thread, friends, and accept the instances in which it just isn’t real.
People leave.
But the people who are meant to be in your life? They will always find their way back.
Be hopeful. Be patient. Be forgiving.
But, most of all, be accepting— no matter how things turn out.
Stay rad and stay bad, kittens.
