I've heard the phrase, "If you love something, let it go. And if it comes back to you, it's yours," used in my relationships, or rather endings of.
But I feel as if there is a miscommunication among those who use it and those who have had it used upon them. Yes, if you aren't happy, you should leave and go find happiness wherever it lies for you. But as one who has received this phrase, I would like to clear up some misconceptions of who stands where in the "letting go."
In a relationship, there is not one person who is a stone statue, sitting in the middle of an ocean where waves crash upon it as it refuses to move. The statue is not holding a bird cage, covered in moss and rust where a bird sits and sing and longs to be free. When the bird asks or pleads or sings to be let go, the statue does not simply open the cage and stand and wait for the chance the bird may return while that statues rusts and is worn down by time and rain and waves.
That is because the stone statue is not a stone statue. The statue is a person and should be considered as such. Neither is the bird a bird, stuck in a cage and only released with permission. The bird is a person and should be treated as such.
When being asked to let go, you are a growing and changing person that is asking another growing and changing person to do the same. To let go. So, when the one who let you go runs and grows and turns into something more beautiful than you thought she would be able to, it is your job to try to catch up.
When you text her, she may stumble, or hesitate, or even stop for a second, but she will not wait. When you call, she may not take the time to pick up and waste her breath while she is busy running. Your only guarantee after letting go is that she will keep running. Watch her as she runs farther through life, through the real world, then you though possible for her. And as long as she has to look back to see you, she will not let you come back.
Once in the race called life, the two of you were tied. Now, she can only hope—and only for a short time—that you will be able to run fast enough to catch her. I only ask the boys who say, "If you love me, let me go," to stop and think of who is the statue and who is the bird, in their mind.
