Her name doesn’t matter in the context of this post. What matters is she moved to New Zealand and met a boy. So after falling in love, they moved in and started a life.
Ten months passed. She referred to them as beautiful and to the end as horrible. The end was quite literally the opposite of how it began. So, she left where she was to find happiness somewhere else – and a few days later, ended up in Taupo.
She showed up just as I was just finishing the kitchen cleaning and just starting the wine pouring. Our introduction was normal. Nothing notable happened. She was simply one of those people who immediately felt like a friend.
I have known her for almost four weeks now. In these four weeks we have laughed a lot and complained a lot. There have been a lot of tears and even more good conversation. In these weeks I have borrowed her perfectly sized flannel shirt and actually felt annoyed that I had to give it back, which was weird and unfair and a flaw in my own personality.
During these weeks there have been so many things I want to say to her – and so many things she has said to me – when she’s having a moment; a moment of really feeling what she’s lost. Of being sad and vulnerable and broken. Of feeling like this was all her fault; that she messed up somehow. Feeling guilty for being sad. Being angry at herself for feeling how she feels.
And no, I have never been in that situation. I have never lived with a man. Fuck, I don’t even remember the last time I gave a guy a birthday card. But I, to an extent, get what she’s feeling. I totally get feeling hurt and empty and completely broken. Feeling like this was all our fault. That we’ve messed up somehow. That if only we had done this, it all would have worked out okay.
But it wouldn’t have. It couldn’t have. If it wasn’t meant to be it wasn’t meant to be, and nothing anyone said or didn’t say could have changed that. So, in those moments of her sadness and insecurity and broken-ness, what I want to say to her is this:
She is, quite literally, one of the most special people I’ve ever met. And it is absolutely not a shame that some fucker decided she wasn’t what they wanted. It’s lovely. Because she is far too good to be settled with anyone unable to appreciate what she is.
I honestly don’t think life will never stop being hard. We will never stop facing people and places and things that fuck with us; with our brains and our hearts and our insecurities. With that weird, blurry line between what we want and what we need and what we deserve. And that’s okay!
I mean, get this. This is the biggest life trauma I’m currently facing, proving my theory that LIFE WILL NEVER STOP BEING HARD.
There was a really weird mark on my front tooth (right?) It had been there for just over a month and the other day when I woke up I noticed it had multiplied. So, instead of hosting a badass pity party for myself, I decided to deal with it – but when I called the insurance company, I found out my travel insurance was actually set to run out that day. And as she explained to me all the implications of this and what my next steps needed to be, I started to cry. Full on, full blown, runny-nose cry. Because I didn’t understand what she was saying and I didn’t know what to do and OMG what if my teeth were all ROTTING and about to fall out? And what if I lost all of my teeth and ended up ugly and alone forever?
This is literally where my brain went. So, I cried. I cried for my teeth and my inevitable lonely, ugly life. And in between hiccups I apologized for crying and the insurance lady reassured me that it was okay, and that she genuinely didn’t think I would be ugly and alone forever because of this spot on my tooth.
Which like, what a relief. But at the same time, HOW EMBARRASSING that I needed her to tell me this. That I needed to lie on the porch like a dumb baby and cry to a stranger because I was scared of losing my pearly whites.
But it had to happen. And I know I’m irrational and stupid and embarrassing – but at the same time, whatever man. Life fucks with you sometimes. Maybe my toothy tears had a lot more to do with that guy who disappeared. Maybe they had to do with my intense insecurities about the future. Maybe they had to do with a lot of things. But regardless, they happened, and that was that.
So my POINT is that a) this entire situation is so insignificant in regards to what nameless-she is going through, and I know that. But b) it’s okay to be weird and sad and teary eyed. Fuck, I cried over a TOOTH. You are absolutely allowed to wake up and cry over a broken heart. We shouldn’t feel this need to be angry at ourselves for feeling what we feel. We are allowed to be vulnerable and irrational and sad. And we are allowed to be okay again whenever we feel like it.
I have known her for four weeks. In this time she has reminded me that life is weird. That sometimes you create a life that falls to pieces, and sometimes it is insanely hard to pick them back up. But we have to, because everything happens for a reason, and just need to believe that even when it sucks so much. She has reminded me that despite my own life insecurities, I am supposed to be exactly where I am, because I honestly think I was supposed to meet her. I think we have this weird and cool opportunity to, in our own way, pull each other through something. And I like to think the world planned it that way.
I have known her for four weeks. She was one of those instant friends (which is so much better than instant oatmeal). In those weeks, she has reminded me that life can be hard and rocky and fucking annoying to get through. But sometimes that rocky road ends up being the best experience of all. Sometimes it leads you to the friends you’re destined to have in the places you’re destined to have them. So let’s embrace those rocky roads, baby. They’re more exciting to drive on, anyway.