What do you do when the person that broke your heart wants to be friends again?
If you’re me, then you tell that person that you’re still in love with them, yet you ultimately agree to be friends.
And because you’re me, you hope for more. At least one day.
And because you’re me, you text your “friend” all throughout the new year and the weekend.
And he tells you little tiny details about his new life.
And because you’re me, you begin to fall in love with him all over again, based on what has become the “new” him.
But because you’re him, you tell me that you’re still not good enough for me. That you’re no one’s prize. That you’re damaged when it comes to relationships and that you won’t put me through the pain of it again. Again.
But, because you’re me, and because it’s a new year, and because, oddly enough, you’re suddenly a hopeful optimist, you still hope for the future, and in between, you find more hope in the new things that you learn about your old love.
Dear Reader: If this was YOUR blog, I would tell you that you need to stop, that no matter what changes have come his way, you’re still too good for him, and more than that, he agrees–he is telling you that he’s not good enough for you. Reader, if this was YOUR blog, I’d tell you to get your head out of your ass and focus on your goals, which is beginning again, a new start in a new place, where people love you as you are and want to help you and see you succeed. I’d tell you to be nice, but don’t get your hopes up and just move on.
And you’re right! You’re right. I know you are right. I don’t think there’s a single one of you who’s going to say, “Molly. Persist. Let him know that he IS good enough for you.” Because he isn’t. He said he isn’t, and he’s right. He knows himself better than I do.
But I am still a hopeful person. I am enchanted. I believe in wishing on stars, on birthday candles, and on coins tossed in fountains. And my wish has not changed. He is my wish. He is my wish.
Still, there’s the meantime. There’s, more importantly, me. And my goals involve moving on, doing something “big”. And so it goes. And so I will. I will do something “big,” and each day of my life is focused on that “big” thing. I am focused on my do-over. I am focused on my escape, my chance, my change.
And yet…there’s a big part of me that gets so excited when I hear my phone sing out Gwen Stefani’s ringtone, because it just might be him. And I just might get to learn a few more things about the person I love. The person I loved. The person I love. The person I loved.
My oh my. It’s all the same, and yet, it is completely different. But it’s still the same verb, the same noun, the same adjective. It is still love. At its simplest, at its most hopeful. It is still love.
Eddie Vedder sang: “It’s no crime to escape.”
Molly Davis sang: “It’s no crime to still love.”
