And you know what? I actually enjoy the feeling right now. It's heavy, like a rock in my chest but it's also comforting. I miss them. I love them. And how beautiful is it to know that I had someone in my life that I loved so much that not having them around kinda sucks? They can run from their problems. They can run from me, but I'm not chasing anymore.
That's not what love is. Love isn't endless pain and bending over backwards to keep someone happy when they would have been fine without you. Love isn't showing how much weight I can bear just to prove you're worthy of attention, worthy of being comfortable and secure.
Love is knowing that despite how I've been treated, and despite how my heart has broken, I still don't hate them. I don't think I can.
Love is giving what you can, but also knowing when you're giving too much. Real love isn't based on how good my mental health is right now, it's not based on how hard I can work without taking a day off.
I've never felt comfortable taking. And I don't know why, I'm sure I can armchair psycho-analyze myself but what's the point? I didn't know how to love without the person loving me, also being the one that hurt me the most. So I got used to the hurt, I became friends with the way it felt to be pushed aside, I even thanked people for these things.
I will live on past this time. My soul is not some finite entity that bears my sins for eternity. I will be something new, in this life, in my next one, just like I was before.
I loved, and it broke me. I loved, and it healed me. The cycle will continue, I am thankful to be able to experience something so beautiful, even for a short time.
