The Fertile Earth

When the person you believed to be the one you've been searching and waiting for and wanted nothing more than to share your life with them refers to your time together as a "black cloud" it hurts in a way that's hard to explain. And when you respond with bitter sarcasm and they admonish you for taking things personally you feel even smaller than you did before.  As you stew in your hurt and embarassment at ever believing it had been something special, you marvel at the fact that somehow you're still holding on to the hope of reconciliation and you wonder how many more tears you will need to cry to smother this god forsaken torch you're still holding for someone who never had the balls to tell you they wanted a relationship, just not with you.

And now as of yesterday, seven months have passed since that interaction and you still cannot wrap your head around the fact that you still haven't fully let go. Perhaps the belief it'll ever come around again has mostly died, but still no luck in letting anyone new in.

I love this poet, and actually have a different poem of his tattooed on my right rib cage. So many metaphors have this similar underlying sentiment to this poem that I'm struggling to succinctly say but these sorts of sayings like how it's darkest before the dawn, or that when things feel heavy and dark that you've been planted, or that caterpillars turn to goo before transforming into butterflies, that the cracks let the light in. I guess just that there's a point to the destruction we endure and that there will be something good on the other side.

My best friend gave me an adorable Valentine's book before I headed home and it's filled with all these personal answers to very sweet questions but the last one is what gets me every time, her wish for me, that at some point all the love I've given out finds its way back to me. A few months ago a pregnant friend said it wasn't how she expected 30 to go, and I said well yea I guess you could be traveling to several countries alone but I'm not sure she took it the way I meant it. Yea for three weeks I was pumped to have my life, but the other 49 I'm pretty sure I'd prefer having a loving husband and a beautiful baby. I would have preferred to have not seen all those wonderful things on my own with no one to reminisce with.

I genuinely do love my life and have very few complaints even though I of course have things that stress me out from time to time, but I genuinely miss having someone to excitedly plan a future with. I'm just going to keep doing my best to make sure future me will be ready for that person when they finally enter my life.