Once upon a time I was walking down one of my favorite streets in Munich when I felt an uncertain pang in my heart.
It wasn’t homesickness. No, that pang I am very familiar with. It wasn’t because I was nervous, or even because I saw a cute puppy and wanted to snuggle it for years. This was one I had never noticed before.
So I found the nearest (free) wifi signal and called him.
He didn’t answer. I’ve always answered his calls. My calls? Well they are rarely answered.
I was alone. Utterly, and completely alone. Not because I didn’t have friends that cared about me somewhere in the world, I do. And my family, they are always in my heart. But this time, I was lonely, for me.
The pang would not have ceased had he answered–no, this pang had possibly nothing to do with him at all.
That sounds incredibly odd. Bordering on obnoxious really.
But it was true. I didn’t even have myself to turn to.
You see, a few months ago I met someone here. I met someone and I fell hard (after much hesitation, mind you). But of course, he had me convinced, and I was trusting, and I dove in head first. I gave every ounce of my energy to not only the “relationship,” but to him. I have a history of doing this. And it’s not like I’m trying to say how “selfless” I was or how “caring” I am. This is not what I mean at all.
It didn’t work out. Well, things have taken a turn, and by that I mean I keep caring. Here I am standing, caring, thinking, and hoping. And him–well, I’m not really sure what he is up to–he suddenly doesn’t have the time to talk or write. (Funny how when he wrote me–even at my most stressed–I took the time to answer.)
Maybe in time. Or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it was yet another step closer to the real thing; merely another lesson learned about relationships.
While I am caring and give all my heart to all relationships–friends and loves alike–I sometimes forget about myself. So often in relationships I have thought, Well, whatever he wants to do, I’ll work my life out around that. I can always change my plans.
That is bonkers.
That is absurd and I (we) need to give myself (ourselves) some flippin’ credit.
We deserve to be thought of, cared for, and loved for our dreams and hopes, too.
I’m trying to treat myself a little bit better. And, as soon as I do, I’m certain the loves I encounter will treat me kinder, as well.
It’s sad that this is something I’m really struggling to do; being kind to myself, learning to love myself.
It’s even sadder that it is much harder said than done.
But here I am, trying every single day.