My father always told me that you can’t fix people and that you can’t force someone to love you. I always thought that I understood what that meant, that I could try to help someone to the best of my ability but sometimes, it just wouldn’t work. It wasn’t until I met you that I realized what he truly meant when he said it. The realization took me a year, but it came, stronger and more painful than ever. I have always been a believer that God gives us lessons to learn, and if we don’t learn them well enough the first time, the lesson comes back to us until we can’t forget it. Unfortunately, what we’ve been through isn’t something new to me and is in fact what I’ve struggled with in 99% of my relationships, which is that I always love the broken people, the ones who don’t love themselves, and I expect my love for them to be enough to not only fix them, but to show them they should love me just as much.
We ended though, just as we’ve always ended, you and I: messy and chaotic. Every heartbroken song reminds me of you and the “good times.” It took me over a year, three semesters of college and a decent amount of heartache to realize though, that my heart need not ache. At one point, I thought I needed you and our relationship and it tore me apart to watch you chase girl after girl while I was the only one who stood by you, who picked you up, and who saw the best in you when everyone else chose not to. Your friends came and went, family too, yet I stood among your wreckage, made myself small and poured all my love and understanding into healing your pain. I didn’t realize though—something that I’ve only recently recognized always happens—that the moment you decided to stand on your own two feet, my devotion would no longer matter. You would leave, as you had always done and I would be left with all the holes in my soul from the pieces you took to fill your own empty spaces. I would be left in the burning ruins of our history, like something out of badly filmed thriller.
Despite that; despite the ignored phone calls, the reckless messages, and all that we've put each other through, I want to thank you. I read somewhere that a soulmate will come when you need closure on a chapter of your life, that your soulmate reflects in you the best ways, but also the worst and that’s why people don’t always end up with theirs. You forced me to check myself and reevaluate, not only myself but my priorities and values. I know where my head is at, where my dedication needs to lie and it’s with no one but myself. When I met you, I didn’t believe that I could rely on myself to be OK—as sad as that may be, but now I know otherwise. I can sleep easy at night knowing that I am the type of person, who will be there for my loved ones no matter the cost. In fact, helping people is the path I chose to take in life, both in my career and personal lives. So thank you, for forcing me to become a stronger and kinder person, even if not being loved was the price I had to pay.
