First day of the week; second day in a brand-new month and it’s time for me to share the latest reflections of my mind that have come about within the last 24 hours.
Sunday was EPIC, as far as achievements go. I completed an incredible challenge and left the event feeling great for that. Except, along with those feelings of elation, there existed a cloud of sorrow, sadness and missing out. A formation comparatively minute in size, yet impossible to ignore; the evident dark splodge in an otherwise celestial clear blue sky.
Why? Again, does my friend refrain from inviting me to join them for the post-event refuelling, after an entire day of exertion?
A thought I couldn’t ignore. One of which I would not let go. That feeling remained as I headed home in my car without a passenger; no-one ahead of or behind me; no intention of a rendezvous. I was heading straight home to my flat. To be alone. Away from the people I care about and miss the most. I see myself every single day. I hoped; it didn’t happen.
This particular friend also happens to be one I have become very fond of through the recent months – this is where the realisation comes in.
I’ve even told her as much as that I have romantic feelings for her, in spite of my underground knowledge that it was anything but a mutual sensation. Now, I’m questioning that, as I often have done when faced with ‘rejection‘. But after spending the previous fortnight feeling sorry for myself and questioning how I could be so ‘defective’; I moved on this weekend and, during the early hours of this morning (awoken by a happy-as-larry bird at 4am), the following theory approached me:
I am not in love with her.
Our friendship has certainly grown within the year we’ve known each other – and, of course, this is natural. When you first meet someone, your level of friendship is unlikely to ‘flatline’ at a constant rate. When both parties make an effort, it’s going to climb and reach for the peaks. Likewise, it can also take a tumble. I now see her as being the first ‘best friend’ that I have had for almost 20 years. I don’t like to place one friend above the other but when I realised this was how I felt, I think I mistook it for love. By all means, I’m very attracted to her both physically and personally. But, however love may form, I’m not at all convinced that this is the definitive recipe.
I’ve always believed that love would feel somehow ‘magical’… I don’t know if I’ve ever truly felt it. There was one encounter in 2008 where I felt unlike I’d ever felt before but, in a situation where substance could not have been formed (I knew nothing of her; even her name), I now view that as a rising of lust; a freeflying link that could potentially repair my broken chain of loneliness… But there was no telling whether it would have been the right size or even if the material was a match for my steel.
Another belief I’ve always had is that I would always end up with someone akin to a best friend.
Going back to my best friend and I certainly don’t feel ‘enchanted’ in sharing her presence. Two decades without a companion is long life of loneliness. I think I allowed my mind to be carried off to a land beyond the horizon and far away. Yesterday, I felt nothing but the warmth of our friendship and as that feeling rose away upon reaching the junction, I felt the cold breeze begin to blow. To me, that’s loneliness. Perhaps the persistent pain of discomfort within my own skin that I am unprepared to address.
So, I still ponder over what true love may be. If I’ve ever felt it, I’ve almost certainly missed it in an instant! My love of friendship is sufficient and I share that with at least two people. My love for life is ever increasing as I continue to challenge myself (albeit, in discretion from this blog). Maybe one day, I can learn to love myself, where I still feel that I am merely progressing from that also-crucial stage of acceptance.