Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Walking Into a Wall of Duh

It took months - and an episode of Ice Loves Coco - to realize:

He never broke my heart.­ He never had it. I never gave it to him. He gave me butterflies. I loved them. I nurtured them. And then he stole them from me. He killed them. All the beautiful butterflies he had born. And that broke my spirit. My heart simply re-acted. It is far too easy to fall for whimsy.


After PE, I was devastated. I chalked that up to it affecting my entire group of friends – since we shared them. I chalked it up to complete and utter embarrassment. I chalked it up to being one of the women I told myself I’d never be; fooled by a man-boy. In a sense, that was easy to move past; so many things to blame and it was nothing like love.

After HG, I was devastated. I had no idea why. Was I falling in love? Maybe. Was I there yet? No. I was careful. I was tip-toeing and testing. I was certain I wasn't going to end up on my face like I did with PE and be caught off guard, not listening to my intuition. So I listened and I ended it, completely secure in the idea that my decision to do so was the right one, yet finding no comfort in that certainly. For months, it plagued me. Why was I left so broken by a boy I knew for only a short time - who only proved to me that I had learned and grown from PE? Why was I devastated to be right? Why was it so hard to move forward and beyond? Why was I so completely and utterly stuck?


Last night I was watching a episode of Ice Loves Coco (don’t judge) and he said something to the effect of how amazing it is when two people find someone that doesn't only put up with them, but loves them despite all of their quirks. And when that happens, it is reason to celebrate.

[Edit: The episode was on again a few days after I posted this, so I recorded the audio,]

DING! After all the talk of butterflies last week, it finally dawned on me: HG had awakened butterflies – something I’d not experienced 7 years – and put all of them in my stomach at once with every kiss, touch, caress. And despite what a bad idea I thought it was initially, who can ignore that many fluttering wings?!

So, after realizing my initial apprehensions were right and I ended it, for months after, I still didn't feel like myself. Honestly, I thought about the failure of a relationship more than I should have - all while trying to figure out why I was still thinking about it (talk about an obnoxious cycle). It took 10 fucking months to realize that I had simply been mourning the loss of my butterflies. I mourned the loss of finding a person that meshed with my weirdness; each other's quirks we found endearing. It wasn't really about losing him; it was about losing the butterflies.

It makes so much sense now; like walking into a wall of duh. The past 12 years of falling in and out of love and lust makes so, so much sense. Butterflies are really wonderful things – though painfully hard to lose, as revelations would tell.

But quiet wings are not lost: One day they will flap again. And that's all anybody ever really needs to know. Keep chasing butterflies, kids.

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