My colleague asked me about something personal while at work
this past week, to which I replied honestly and bluntly.
I had an inkling she knew anyway. And she was really sweet
about it, just like a caring parent.
One thing she said that did make me uncomfortable was I am
more than likely to be alone, possibly till the end of my time. She cited a few
of her friends as examples while at that.
Truth be told, at that moment, her words scared the life out
of me. It isn’t that I wasn’t aware of similar real-life examples prior to
that. Call me naïve, but I’ve always held on to the belief that one day, I’d
find the one. It didn’t matter just how different, eccentric and sometimes
insufferable I was. I’ve always believed I would. So to think that staying
alone would become the story of my life, that had me taken aback.
And it’s not as if I’ve never given that a thought before.
In my early teens I’d already pondered about the likelihood of a life-long
solitary existence. It’d terrify me deeply. I got so terrified, that I’d do
crazy things. Like allowing myself to get involved in sticky situations. And
giving the other person waaaayyy more than I probably should have. And continuously
putting in one-sided effort in the blind hope of having that feeling be
reciprocated.
(Yes, I forked out a huge chunks of my savings to please the
other person.)
Eventually I got out of that detrimental mindset and became
smart enough to walk away. It was a massive lesson for me, one that I
admittedly paid a price too high for. Nonetheless, a lesson learnt is a lesson
learnt, and it’s one I’m glad I did. I’m glad I learnt that I don’t NEED to
cling onto someone else for dear life in pursuit of happiness. I can be happy
and content by loving myself first and foremost.
Years later I’ve found myself in a couple of relationships
that were based off of mutual understanding and affection, and from those I’ve
had some magical, wonderstruck moments I’ll hold near and dear with me till the
end of time. And I’m grateful for them, despite the undesirable endings,
because they definitely had a part of my faith in finding love restored.
Just this month, I had an interesting encounter with someone
who I thought would be an integral source of my happiness for a good amount of
time. I kept my hopes up when my confession was favourably responded to.
Holding on to that hope alone had my heart fluttering. But as days went by,
mutual affection and caring slowly became a one-sided affair. The flame on the
other end died down. I realized said affirmative response meant nothing more
than a heat-of-the-moment flirtation to woe me. It really didn’t matter at all.
I found myself reverting to old habits, constantly putting forth an effort to
display my earnestness when it obviously isn’t reciprocated. For quite a while
I felt like a fool who was willing to be a fool (again). And I wasn’t okay with
that.
As I am writing this, I can’t begin to describe to you how
liberating it is to acknowledge that this spark has ended, and that it’s time
to press on. I don’t need to make a fool out of myself to capture someone else’s
brief attention in vain. It really isn’t worth it.
And even if I do manage to capture it, it still wouldn’t be
worth it. ‘Cause if I’m going to be unhappy trying so hard for someone else, I
might as well be happy staying alone.
I’m okay with being alone. I’m glad I can finally tell that
to myself. I’m genuinely okay with being alone.
