Whoever said “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” must have been one incredibly emotionally stable person.
I personally wish I had the strength of that individual. Until I acquire that strength, I’ll have to wallow in my misery for a few days. If you’ve read my post Love and the Socially Awkward (part 1), you’ll know I recently found a fellow-man to call mine. However in a series of rather unfortunate events, things fell through and we separated. It’s been five days since the split and I can’t help but feel sadness, anger, hopelessness (not to be over dramatic), and loss.
The sadness comes from the loss. Losing something so beautiful, so comfortable, so right. Now, when I wake up without a lousy good morning text, I feel empty, like something is missing from my day, something that I can’t quite reach for. Knowing I’ll never again feel the skin of the man whose very touch made me melt, leaves me believing I’ll never feel close to another again.
In case you didn’t catch on yet, he was the dumper, I was the dumpee. We weren’t together very long. We became good friends in a matter of days, and quickly fell for each other almost like Romeo and Juliet (minus the dying and family drama). Within 2 weeks, we were a couple to be reckoned with. We made all the single people jealous with our attraction for eachother. We dated for three weeks before our quick start relationship met its fateful demise. We both fell hard for each others easily identifiable qualities, that we didn’t learn until too late about eachothers quirks and flaws. Ultimately, it was the little things that put our relationship on its rocky road to oblivion.
I know these feelings will go away, that they are only temporary and I will feel better one day. I suppose that’s what the poet meant when he said “it’s better to have loved and lost…” At least you know what love is, what it feels like, what it should feel like. But until I muster the strength to get over this loss, I would’ve prefered to have never loved at all.