hopeless romantic – A Graceful Catastrophe

“Sometimes you get the love you want, sometimes you get the love you need.”
_{-Author Unknown, found on a wall inside Inxpot, Keystone, CO}

Maybe love isn’t what this hopeless romantic had always thought it was. I grew up with this vision of what true love looked like, and, of course, it was shaped by love stories I devoured in both novels and movies. I wanted to be swept off my feet by somebody who just understood exactly how to make me happy and speak to my heart the moment he looked into my eyes. If he’s my soulmate, shouldn’t he already know everything about me? Shouldn’t it be that he’d never hurt me? Wouldn’t it be eternal bliss, every second that ticked by after meeting him?

I honestly believed that incredibly unrealistic version of true love. Damn those love stories, creating a world that’s honestly only fit for fantasy. And poor guy who would ever fall in love with me – what kinds of shit expectations are those?!

A friend told me last week, after reading my last blog, laced with words born from pain and jaded discontent, that she thought love between two people was far more like two circles, separate at first, slowly coming closer together until they begin to overlap.

Over the past week, after thinking, processing, mulling things over, journaling, and talking with others, I’ve decided that I did, in fact, have it all wrong.

True love is when the other person understands they’ve hurt you and they break down in the middle of a very public place because they’re overwhelmed by the understanding of the extent of that hurt.

True love is not only understanding how the other needs to be treated in order to feel love, but actually leaving their comfort zone and putting in the intention and effort to make sure the other feels loved in their own language.

True love is thinking of the other first, and sometimes even sacrificing to put their happiness above your own.

True love is including the other into your own world, shedding walls and baggage, in order to be completely raw and vulnerable – which is probably the most terrifying thing in the world to do.

My soulmate is the one willing to put in the work. The one who decides to study me like I am a course he wants to ace.

This. This is true love. It takes work. And ever so much understanding. And grace. And, did I mention work? It isn’t easy. It isn’t effortless. And to have that expectation is foolish. And then it leads to frustration and disappointment.

The better you understand how someone ticks, the better you can love them. And that is the true beauty of love, I think. To see my partner mold to my needs because he’s learned who I am, and how I am…that’s a thing of beauty.

Soulmates decide to grow together, to lean in on one another. It isn’t that one will never hurt the other, but that when they do, it’s seen as an opportunity to deepen the love. It’s a lesson then learned, where layers of old pain can be shed, and the soul is bared.

Love is realizing you want to be so transparent that your partner is capable of seeing all of you – the good, the bad, the beautiful, and the ugly – and you don’t run away from that, despite how scary it is, because you know you can trust them with every bit of you, past, present, and future.

Soulmates don’t give up on each other. True love doesn’t turn away from each other. No matter how ugly it gets. Because these types of partners consistently choose one another and understand that together, they can conquer any challenge.

I’ve weathered quite the storms in my life – and again rode some rocky waves quite recently that once again left me jaded. I’ve waited to receive the love I’d always hoped I’d one day feel, and honestly had begun to lose hope it could exist.

And you know, perhaps the love I’d always dreamed of having, that effortless and immediate love I thought could exist, is actually best left for the fairytales. This may not be the love I’d always wanted, but maybe that’s because this is the love I’ve always needed.

 How long can you wait for the one you deserve?
Light on, never let it out, never let it out
If I'm gone, if you ever leave I hope that you learn
To fight on, to fight on

Don't tell me this is all for nothing
I can only tell you one thing
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere

I see everything you can be
I see the beauty that you can't see
On the nights you feel outnumbered
Baby, I'll be out there somewhere 

- Outnumbered
Dermot Kennedy

As much as I’d like to think that I’m hardened against the world and I’m protecting my heart from any kind of future pain, I just cannot deny who I am.

I am a hopeless romantic.

I always have been. Now I know I always will be. If this catastrophe (and yes, you lovelies that continue to read my blog, cringe all you want at that word, that’s exactly what occurred in my life 130 days ago, by definition. And hey, thanks for being a reader, by the way! *wink*) didn’t break me from believing true and beautiful love exists, that someone will treasure me and respect me one day, then nothing will. It’s who I am to my core, I guess, a beautifully naive and hopeless romantic.

It’s one part of my essence that was not altered. And I’m truly grateful for it.

But, it means that I cry whenever I hear this song. Like, ugly cry. It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, if I hear this song, it’s over.

Because I want so desperately to believe it’s true.

So many of my nights, I feel outnumbered. I feel the weight of this chapter putting so much pressure on me that it physically affects me. And some days – goodness, so many days – it takes all my energy just to stay upright.

Since hearing this song, though, my perspective is starting to shift slightly. When it all feels so heavy that I just don’t want to get out of bed, I now think of these lyrics. Somebody out there is meant for me. And he will help to remind me of who I am on the dark days that I forget.

How long can I wait for the one I deserve?

A lifetime, if I have to.

I’m on a path I never expected to be on, really. Our marriage was crap for a long time, I just never thought it’d ever really end. I figured we’d finally decide to fight for it. And when I did, it was too little, too late. He was already long gone – I just hadn’t realized it yet.

So now, I have this journey to go on that I’ve finally started to embrace. I mean, it is what it is, so may as well make the best of it. So, now, my philosophy is: if it makes me nervous, I say yes. If I hesitate for any reason, I know that I must jump in with both feet and I muster all the energy and confidence I have to actually go through with it. But I do it.

And because this is now my attitude, amazing things have happened! I’ve met the most incredible people and have had the loveliest of connections. I’ve gone on midnight motorcycle rides that have taken me places I’ve never been, hiked a mountain with strangers, some of whom became people I want to learn as much about as I can and would be so sad if they weren’t in my life anymore, and I’ve had countless other encounters that have filled my soul.

And this is only the beginning.

One of my favorite things about this journey so far is that I’ve learned that people are good. Honestly. I learned that. I used to be so skeptical and ready to mistrust. Now, I have this incredibly beautiful faith in humanity once again.

My energy is changing and it’s changing for the better. This whole attitude of saying yes and just truly living in the moment has inspired a sense of freedom I don’t think I’ve ever had. And I’m getting rather addicted to it.

I’ve never felt stronger, braver, or more empowered. I am showing my daughter that even though we may fear something, it doesn’t mean we avoid it. On the contrary, it means we embrace it wholeheartedly. That never used to be my philosophy. I used to be so cautious. So incredibly cautious that I think I stopped actually living. I stopped enjoying the moments and being silly and free. I’m sure that absolutely impacted my marriage. (But I also had to always be on point, always the consistent parent, always the responsible one. There really wasn’t much balance or sharing of the parenting responsibilities, which was exhausting.)

Actually, now that I just wrote that, something so obvious just struck me. Life changes us. Okay, duh. I told you it was obvious. Seriously, though, without even realizing it, one day we are somebody we don’t recognize. Someone stuck in the rut of life. We slowly become the person we need to be in the situation at hand. Okay, maybe not everyone gets stuck, but I surely did.

I’ve always been strong, a bit reckless, and someone who desires adventure.

But life changed me. Having a daughter being born so sick we almost lost her devastated me. Having a husband who had a hard time finding the line between responsible adult and perpetual 14 year old was exhausting. I felt I had to become someone else in order to maintain balance in our lives.

And now I have this life. One where I am free to be free.

One where I am free to be me.

And I refuse to lose myself again. It’s interesting, going through this journey at almost 40. The first time, when I left my first husband, I was in my late 20’s and I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of a partner, out of life. I really did. Now, though, it’s different. And I’m not so naive as to believe that in another 10 years, I won’t have an entirely new perspective and outlook on life. In fact, I hope to continue to grow and adapt and flourish.

So, how long will I wait for the one I deserve?

Well, here’s the thing. I now know what I deserve. I know what I want out of a partner. I know I want to chase down adventures with him and laugh and have deep, meaningful, and emotional conversations. I want to be with someone who is completely smitten by me and treasures me like the gem that I am, even in the moments…no, especially in the moments when I’ve temporarily lost my shine. I want to be with someone that helps me to flourish and blossom and I long to be in a relationship where we constantly elevate one another to the next level of awesomeness.

And the moment it all stops, I know to give it my everything, to devote my energy to the honest effort that a relationship deserves, and then to get out if it still is no longer fulfilling.

Life is simply too short to waste a second on something that, after thought, effort, and consideration, is still broken.

I have seen friends’ husbands who genuinely adore their wives. I know it exists. I know, in my heart and into the depths of my soul, that there is someone out there, ready to point out everything I can be and show me all the beauty that I can’t see.

And I will wait a lifetime for him if I have to, all the while having a blast solo, and saying yes to all the things that scare me.

So to quote Mark Groves, I will end with this:

"And just when you think it's the end, it will be the beginning. You will find someone who will learn the nuances of your soul. Who will be able to predict the tears on your cheek so they may catch them and turn them into a river of desire. They will break the cage that protects your heart so the same light that fills your cells can fill theirs. They will learn why you do everything you do so that in the fleeting moment of fear you will run to them. And if there should be moments of despair, you will land in their arms so they may carry you so high that the only fall you will experience will be in love."

I am not only trusting my journey, I’m skipping down my path with a joy in my heart and a strong conviction that all is unfolding as it should. (Well, the skipping and joy may not be there everyday, but I at least feel it on some days and for now, that is enough for me.)

So, with that same zealousness, I will no longer be here, merely existing. But I will live with more enthusiasm and zest than I have in years.

Because a great many adventures lie ahead in my future. This is only the beginning.

Tag: hopeless romantic

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