…but for those who would rather surpass the overly-positive banter* this Valentine’s Day: the rest of this post is for you.
Love is hard. It’s hard to maintain while you’re in it and it’s hard to forget when you’re away from it. It’s hard to brush to the side and casually act like it does not dictate your happiness, and it’s hard to consistently believe it will return once it leaves.
Love is the toughest conditioning I have ever experienced…and I went through years of athletic training (with asthma), dance lessons, intimidating theater auditions, The Devil Wears Prada-esce internships, and a cross-country move. Not to mention dealing with cold-as-shit weather for the better half 21 years. Yeah, love is a fucking blizzard.
So I don’t blame you for hating it; for wanting it to evaporate with the social media scavenger hunt of those announcing they’ve found it. I too have felt those feelings and guarantee I will again. Nothing is wrong with you for thinking or relating to the shitiness of love.
What would be wrong is to blame yourself for giving a shit.
There is no fault in wanting happiness and thinking any or every person you’ve laid your eyes or body on would aid in that goal. Being vulnerable is fucking scary
sometimes always, it’s always scary, so naturally when the worst happens and you lose a piece of your lifeline (i.e happiness), you are going to react. Sometimes not in glamorous ways. Hell, NEVER in a glamorous way! Your insides get messy and that’s difficult to contain.
There have been many times where I thought I was losing a vital lifeline due to a relationship ending. I would beat myself up for wanting to rip open my chest and share everything with guys who, frankly, weren’t worth a long-term damn.
I chose to no longer partake in the blame game.
I am done fighting who I am.
Those times of vulnerability, where I felt embarrassed after spewing genuine emotion, were simultaneously packed with surges of bravery and strength. That ain’t no coincidence, jelly bean. There is something to be said about giving a shit. It fuels you to stand firm with your choices, regardless if they work for someone else, regardless if you end up alone during a chapter of your life. You felt it in your gut. It was the path you wanted to take, the journey you had to experience, the lessons you had to…OKAY TOO POSITIVE, NINA, MOVE ALONG…
So hate the memory or idea of love all you want, but no, I can’t have you ditching your instincts because you were kick-ass enough to choose a path that is never guaranteed. Not as long as you’re still reading this.
Tears are not the enemy. Your heart is not the enemy. Apathy is always, always the enemy. Don’t make it easy on yourself by conceding to what weak people do: numb themselves because a hefty tornado filled with intense emotion and candid love came through and tore up their perfectly designed soul.
The way I see it, happiness is free to come and go. It can take however many vacations it needs with as many suitors as it wants. It’s your job to not lock the door. You don’t need to avoid what’s inside in order to find happiness again. It will return. It has to. After all, you’re meant for each other.
With love (if you’ll accept it), The Sassy Writer Rooting For You
*I strongly believe in every notion I write and send out into the cyber vortex, but yours truly is still capable of pessimism. I understand when there are times you just don’t want to hear it.