I always thought that if something wasn’t meant to be, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That’s starting to ring true more and more. I don’t feel hurt. I’m just existing without what I once desired more than anything in this world. It doesn’t hurt. But it does feel unfinished.
I’m not actively looking for anyone. I haven’t for a while. I just don’t see the point. It’s not that I don’t desire companionship, it just doesn’t feel like it would fit in my life right now. I don’t feel ready. I don’t feel like an ideal candidate. A lot of that revolves around my weight, but I may get into that another time. Either way, I’ve kind of stopped wondering about it. It used to be on my mind all the time. Why can’t I find someone? What pushes them away? Do I have the ability to keep anyone? Am I just destined to be alone?
Don’t worry, I already told you I’m not hurt. I’m not much of anything about it lately. I used to feel extreme jealousy when I’d see couples walking down the street. Those thoughts would even be there when seeing my own friends with their significant others. It doesn’t feel like that anymore. No bitterness. No hard feelings. No one even asks me why I’m single anymore. I just am. I’m just here. I have no reason to think about it one way or the other. If it happens, great. If it doesn’t, I’ll be fine too.
Something keeps telling me to pursue, though. Even if it’s just left inside my own head. All I want to do is hold the line and wait for the day of my vindication. I can’t explain why I feel it. I just do. Perhaps I’ve always felt it. Things seem so attainable, even if I’m not thinking about one specific person. I suppose what they say is true: the more you don’t think about it, odds are it’ll crop up when you least expect it. I’ll know it when I see it. And I just haven’t seen it yet.
There’s days where I just want to pull the handbrake and revert back to my old habits in order to feel better. But they’re becoming few and far between. There’s far more exciting things on the other side of it all. What I was doing wasn’t working, so it’s fine to try something new. No matter what story of mine feels unfinished, I have the power to write my own ending to it. Something’s bound to cease soon. I don’t know what it is. All I know is that my life will continue on through it. There’s no termination date. I’m holding on and my grip is strong. All the answers to all those questions seem like the least important thing right now. This is about me getting my stuff together to be the best person someone can receive. That way, one day, when my dad walks me down the aisle and gives my hand to someone else’s, there’ll be zero doubts on everyone’s part. To have and to handhold for all eternity, just as long as I can reach out and learn to save myself first.
It’s all right here in the palm of my hand. I just need to unclench my fist first in order to see it.