I'd always heard that "if you love someone, you have to let them go." I didn't know everything about what that meant until recently. It sounds so simple--until you're clutching your chest at 2am, lost somewhere between a heartattack and freedom.
It's always been easy letting people go...or shall I say easier. I didn't love them. The love didn't run deep. My hopes and dreams weren't tangled up in them. I didn't care of they were happy after I let them go. I didn't care if they'd ever be satisfied. But when love is involved, it's hard to not care. It's hard to not wonder what they are doing with the Sunday evenings you used to share together. Letting love go is miserable.
I'm slowly beginning to embrace the freedom that I have been involuntarily granted. But would I rather love than be free? Today, I would. Maybe tomorrow, I'll feel differently. And the next day, I'll go back to favoring love. Who knows? I don't.
I'm learning to be okay with not knowing in this process. I empower anyone going through a purge--voluntary or involuntary--to be okay with not knowing in the process. Be okay with the uncertainty of your day-to-day emotions. Be okay with the chills that come with the detoxification. Be okay with your hurt. Be okay with the withdrawals. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
I pray that the love I have for myself will conquer the love that's been lost--that I'll wake one day and not think about what I'm missing, but about all that I have and I am. I am enough love. You are enough, love. We are enough.
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