Exactly two months of total radio silence. That's how far I made it before I contacted him. Whatever, spine like a worm (that's a Danish expression), I just needed to.. Well. One of many options really. To find some sort of closure, to talk to him, to know he was okay, to know if he'd be around, to let him know that no matter what, I am his friend. Our break has been the best I've had to endure, and the worst. The worst because I still feel no less convinced he is my soulmate, the one I'll end up with, the one I want, and have a very hard time letting go of that. I'm not letting go of it, honestly, but I am trying to find a decorative shelf for it, and put it there. The best because of the way he did it. Respectful, honestly, reflectivity and with all the kindness and care for me. He never broke my trust, he made sure to touch upon the areas he knew would be hard for me, and he didn't drag it out. He made sure the friendship could last. No hard feelings between us at all.
So when I wrote him, it was with a few questions. I needed to understand things I had theories on, but I wanted to make sure I got his reasons. I did. I was absolutely right in everything I expected. It made any anxiousness I might have held onto evaporate. I obviously also told him that I missed him, but I was careful not to be an emotional mess about it. He knew I was sad, I didn't have to tell him that. Just like I knew he was, too. I just wanted to tell him he is missed, I miss his company, his particular brand of funny, his calm and his mere presence. He missed me too.
Long story short, we talked about the finer details of quite a few things, and about how fast everything happened. And we decided to just take a step back, breathe, and be friends for a while. And just see where it goes. And if it goes to just friends and nothing more.. So be it. Then he'll be the one who got away that I'll tell my cats about when I get old. I want him in my life, that much I know. And I can be patient if that's what he needs, I have nowhere else to be emotionally. I'm not even upset, I'm just relieved he's around, and comfortable meeting his need. Which all sounds so.. Doing whatever he tells me to in pure desperation. It's not, don't worry, it's been weighed and thought through and will be reevaluated regularly to make sure it's still what I want to do. The lows of breakups obviously comes with the whole deal. And I'm accepting the fact that a rejection could hurt me. I just consider it worth the gamble. He's worth it.
In completely other news I want to take a moment to appreciate my own strength this past year. I was talking to some friends about overcoming the crap life throws at you, and holy hell. Grandmother, stepdad, me, granddad in the hospital. Falling in love with the love of my life, whirlwind emotional storm, getting dumped and then agreeing to a do-over at a slower pace. All the while getting my ass back to school and finishing 3 courses with top grades, putting me at a grade point average almost high enough to get into psychology. If I can get that just a tiny bit higher, Peepers.. Then screw lawschool, I'mma be a goddamn psychologist. I've also somehow managed to refind my love for books and the ability to concentrate on reading. AND, ladies and gentlemen, gotten my economy completely under control, saved up for my do-over at the driver's license (starting in like.. 8 days), painted a room in my hone, gone to my first ever music festival (scary scenario for me, but I loved it!), screwed up a foot again and healed up nicely, gone on loads of weekend trips to the lovely middle-of-nowhere, Jutland, made new friends and been a pretty decent friend and support to the existing ones.
I FEEL LIKE A PRETTY FUCKIKG PUT TOGETHER PERSON! And that's huge for me. I rarely ever really feel anxiety anymore, and when I do it's usually when my boundaries are broken and I have no way to retreat or make people understand what's happening. I've gotten so good at listening to myself, my warning signals, my needs and at finding ways to ask and communicate them if necessary, that I barely ever remember I have the condition anymore. (Not in the hit-my-head-and-forgot-way, just the dont-need-to-inform-as-a-precaution-way and the dont-need-to-take-precautions-way). I'd say I'm cured, but one thing is you don't cure anxiety, and another is I'm not, I've just learned how to deal with it. My toolbox is super functional. I know when to just back off and breathe, I know when to challenge myself and work on my problematic areas, I know when I need to verbalize, and most importantly I know when to draw the line and say no. I know how far I can stretch without breaking, and I'm glad to say it's further and further. I know when I need to just opt out, and how to do it in a way that lets anyone affected know it's not them, it's me tending to me. I also know how to pick my battles, and to prioritize in favor of my long-term mental health. And holy shit, all that has taken a while. I learned some in therapy. I learned some from life. I learned some from friends. I even learned some from myself. But I've learned, and I'm helping others learn, too.
I'm just in a good place, even if everything isn't rosy or perfect. Cause it's not, don't be fooled. But that's okay. I can deal with it, hell, I can even find enjoyment in overcoming the hurdles. Because they're all just one more step I'm actively taking, and not just staring down the road and finding it long. I want to see what's along that road. All of it.
I just wish it wasn't so freaking hot while I'm hiking. That one was for you, weather. Knock. It. Off.
