December 18, 2015

He Became Home to Me.

Unsplash/Scott Webb

He was my person—my light.

I became dependent on his touch—his voice. When ever he came around, it was like nothing else mattered. There were no other worries in the world.

He was my peace. He was my home.

I’ve never experienced anything like the love that I shared with him.

I was the outgoing, over-emotional, risk-it-all girl—and he was the logically thinking, level headed man. He had a way about him. He would light up an entire room when he entered. He was always the life of the party, always telling jokes and making people smile.

He lived for that—making people laugh—and I loved that about him.

He made me recognize my worth. He pushed me to be the woman that I want to be—the woman that I know I should be. He believed in me when I didn’t even believe in myself, and I will forever be grateful to him for that. He made me want to be the best version of myself. Because he was the best version of himself.

We became one. When we fell for one another, it was almost like our two separate bodies collided together to create this beautiful, raw creature. A creature that thrived for happiness and greatness. It fed on the pure electricity created within itself. We were two, but we were whole.

Until it happened—the mistake was made.

It didn’t matter who made it or what happened—all that mattered was that trust was broken.

Although sturdy like a concrete culvert, our love was as fragile as a thin sheet of glass—waiting for that one little pebble to be thrown our way.

So there we were—broken. The years of friendship and loyalty that had been built were now in shambles.

It’s hard, you know—when the one person you love more than anything in the world refuses to try again. But I get it now—after all this time I get it.

We can’t be one, because we are not yet whole. I still have to grow—to figure out my life and learn to not be dependent on someone else—I must learn how to be whole, all on my own. And he still has to find himself. Neither one of us are at a place in our lives where a love like we had could survive—not the way we would want it to at least.

I will forever cherish the time we spent together—learning and growing together. Occasionally, we may fall into one another—inevitably crashing into the proverbial truth, but oh, how we love the subsequential flames that follow. And how could I not, when the embers are so beautifully mesmerizing? Because that just reminds me just how real it truly was. He will always be a part of my life—of me—even if it’s only to keep me on a guided path, into the next adventure life takes me on.

I guess the point in all of this is to help those of you who have struggled with losing your person. I want to share my experience to show others that just because something beautiful ended, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t beneficial or worth it.

Every moment we spent together taught me something new about myself. Although I didn’t get that happy ending everyone longs so badly for, I did get my fairytale. It was short and sweet, but it was also raw and magical. It made me the strong, independent woman that I am today.

Everything that happens—good or bad—can have a positive impact on our life. It’s just about perspective. The problem with today’s society is that we spend so much time planning for the future that we don’t enjoy the now. And honestly, now is all that matters.

So go on that trip you’ve been wanting to go on, give second chances or open up and let someone in. Because one day, you are going to look back—and when you do, I promise you—you would much rather say, “I did that, I lived!” instead of, “What if?”



How I Released the Past & Learned to Choose Today.


Author: Jamie Huffty

Editor: Yoli Ramazzina

Photo: Unsplash/Scott Webb

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Jamie Huffty