Not too long ago, I was involved in a very special long-term relationship. When we first met, I had no idea that we would stay together for years longer. Our love was in its infancy and felt fresh and new. All I knew is that I was committed to this individual and physically needed them to be around me almost every day and night.
As time progressed, there were more and more facets of the relationship that I found I enjoyed. Their personality was constantly changing. Some days happy, some days sad, some days jealous, some days mad. Keeping up with the different moods and adapting was like a game, but I loved it. I loved them all.
Each day we drew closer and closer, and I started to get possessive. I didn’t want others to know or interfere with our love story, so I kept it strictly confidential. I didn’t tell any friends or family about this relationship, despite how much of my time and heart it occupied.
This is the point where our love changed to addiction. I was still able to function in daily life and activities, so it was not a big deal. But clearly, it was becoming unhealthy being so dependent on someone else, when I’ve always been such an independent person.
Eventually, I let more and more people in my life see this relationship for what it is. At first, they were supportive, but when they saw how much of a hold it had on me, they knew something wasn’t right. From that point onward, they would ridicule our relationship and say that I should end it before it ruins my life.
They couldn’t see how passionate I was whenever I was with this individual. They failed to see how it brought me out of my shell and changed my whole perspective on what it meant to be dedicated to someone.
Because of this, I resented them a little and I’m sure the feeling was mutual. However, despite not fully understanding our relationship, they grew to somewhat respect it. Maybe because they knew it would one day fail; because that’s what happened.
When things started to interfere with my daily life, I knew it had gone too far. But I didn’t want to leave; I didn’t want things to change. I also didn’t want to compromise. I did have an end goal in mind, but just couldn’t commit to both it and continue living this “double-life”.
Something had to give, and I eventually ended up sacrificing both. There was always this “give-and-take” which I detested, because no one else I knew seemed to be experiencing the same thing I was. At least not to the same extent.
The funny thing is that I thought I’d be letting someone down by breaking this commitment. I always felt like everyone had so much to say, but it turned out to be the opposite. They now seemed to care about me and my wellbeing. They understood why I had to leave.
The individual moved on, and settled down with someone else. But for a while there was a void in my heart which I just couldn’t fill. I’m sure they felt the same, but had no choice but to find a “replacement”. I’ve been afraid to find mine.
However, that’s starting to change. While I still haven’t quite found my soulmate, I’m at least ready to. Being “ready” sounds silly, but it’s such a necessary step. I guess gaining “closure” is the actual term for it.
How do you get closure on a multi-year relationship like this? I wish I could tell you. All I know is: time heals all wounds. Love comes in many different forms, and when you feel true love, there’s nothing else in the world quite like it.