It isn’t easy letting go of the love of your life. It takes patience, and balls. It takes heartache and an overwhelming amount of love for yourself. Because in the shadows of contentment is sacrifice. Sacrificing your fantasy for reality. Or your sanity for clarity. It’s like letting go of mounds of Olive Garden pasta for a healthy dose of kale and spinach everyday. It’s like, stabbing yourself in the heart, so you can be brought back to life.
It’s tough. Really, really tough. And sometimes, it’s the only thing we can do to get us further. To get us where we want to be.
Not just us, as in me or you. But us as in all of us. Life is a revolving door of change and sacrifice and relentless loving of self to benefit others. It’s the dead leaves on the ground in the winter time so that new flowers can bloom in the spring.
It’s the giving of a kidney so that someone else can live.
Or. It’s letting go of the love of your life, so that they can be the best possible person they can be without any hindrance from others – constantly needing them or relying on them to be their bridge when they’re in need.
Sometimes letting go seems harsh. Like hanging up in someone’s face and never answering the phone again. Sometimes, it’s telling someone the hard truth even if it pains you to do so. Or saying no to the person you’ve ALWAYS said yes to. I find myself asking, all the time, over and over – why would life bring me such a perfect love, if only to tell me to let it go?
And I will never know the answer to that question other than knowing that for whatever reason, in whatever way, it was the absolute best thing for me in that moment.
I’ve always heard that if you let something go, and it’s meant to be yours, it will come right back to you. But we’ll never know if its meant to be, if we don’t let go.