Wednesday, 26 October 2016
The art of missing oneself.
Have you ever reached a point in your life when you realised that you actually missed yourself? Not the person that you are now. The person that you used to be a couple of years back. Seemingly, it is the same you but equipped with a machine gun shooting sarcasm, pockets full of scepticism and sprinkling lack of belief on your morning toast. How did I get here? If you have read any other post on this blog the answer is simple - I fell in love. It was mesmerising, exciting, respectful and hear-warming. Just before it turned heart-breaking.
At some point in my life, in September 2013 to be precise, I had it all. I had a decent job, a bank account with savings, a relatively new car, my first house and much more important things. A loving partner in crime, who always listened to what I had to say (even if it took hours to express). He also was not scared to hold me close when sharing his stories. He had black coffee, I had white. He was a night owl, I was an early bird. He was chilled-out, I was constantly on the go. One could say that the only thing we had in common was the passion for red wine and peanut butter. I even called him Peanut. He thought that it was due to the shape of his head. But it was not.
Last weekend I attended a beautiful ceremony filled with family love, warmth, closeness and joy - a wedding of my best friend in Poland. It was a beautiful moment accompanied by many sincere smiles, bride selfies and dancing until 4 am. I was watching people at this wedding. If you are invited to attend these beautiful parties, you know that they can be a source of stomach spasms for single people (so why are you still single? My son has a good job and speaks English. Maybe I will introduce you...). This one was not. However, as I became slightly sadistic in my own head, I couldn't help but wonder: will I ever be the person I used to be? Is it possible to be completely happy and careless again on my own?
Break-ups are hard. You fight over your favourite jumper he once owned. There is the difficult conversations with your mutual friends. The gap that suddenly occurs when you are eating breakfast on your own. But it is not just the external circumstances that change. It is the inside of yourself that suddenly shrinks and fits back into the little shell you just came out of. I watched all these couples at the wedding (as I was one of the two men-less girls at the party) and I could not help being jealous about how free and carelessly people behave when they are connected to another human being by that tiny glittery golden thread sparkling joy called 'love'. People say that relationships limit them. Oh how wrong you are (or you are dating the wrong people). Relationships set us free.
Being in a relationship is just like having a safety net beneath you at all times. If you fall, there is someone there to make sure that you do not hit the ground. Hence the feeling of being scared becoming a distant memory. You march across the world feeling confident, knowing that you do not need to be perfect. Those imperfections make the bond even stronger. And then, suddenly, the safety net is gone. You start watching every step. You introduce routines to not lose control over what you have got left. Probably to an extent that makes your friends diagnose you with OCD (and rightly so).
I want myself back. I miss myself. The naturally careless, awfully imperfect, Noble-worthy clumsy and permanently undecided self.