The sting that never goes away

12:14:00 AM

It was the first time I loved a guy in a non-platonic way. He was a good guy, and although we were young then, I can say  that what we had was real. We started out as good friends, and as we got to know each other better, we felt things one wouldn’t feel for just another friend. We were together for a short period of time, and due to circumstances beyond our control, we both decided that it would be best for us to part ways.

We parted as friends, but we’re no longer close; we just greet each other on special holidays like Christmas and New Year. I moved to the city to go to college, and he stayed behind. He met someone else, who’s now his wife and the mother of his daughter. I’m very happy for him, and I wish him and his family all the best. I seldom think of him, but when I do, there’s still that small sting.

Thinking and it stings a little.
(photo from the internet)
For the record, I can't imagine myself married to him. We had something great, but I knew early on that we were both aiming for different things in life. We had equally big dreams, but his required him to stay in the province, while mine made me pack my bags and leave everything behind for a new life in the city. I look at his life now, and I know I would have been unhappy if I chose the same path. It's a good life, but it's not for me.

Perhaps that small sting is the human instinct to ask how things would have been, had we made different decisions, had we wanted different things. I am over him as he is over me. But I don’t think we ever really stop loving people – we just learn to get by without them as time marches on. We find new people to take their place in our lives, but that does not make what we shared any less real. Time cannot and does not undo love; it merely transforms it.

It’s a different kind of love now, and it’s definitely much less significant in terms of intensity. It’s there, though, and I think this is something I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It’s the sting that never goes away, but it’s not a burden. Rather, I feel that it’s a reminder of how lucky I am to have found someone like him once upon a time. Wherever I may find myself in the future, I know he’s had a hand in it, one way or another. I am not the same person I was before I met him, so he’s essentially one of the forces that led me to where I am now, that made me who I am now.


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