Seeing the person you love fall in love with someone else can kill you. I know because it almost killed me.
I’ve been in love with the same guy, Lamont for over a decade now. He was the one I always believed I’d end up with; I was convinced that no matter how many times either of us screwed things up, we’d eventually come back to each other.
And I recently had the opportunity I’d been dreaming of: We had another chance to give things a shot, it seemed.
But I learned he was running to me because he was running away from someone else — a man he now loves.
He’s no good for Lamont, but Lamont feels for him immensely. And that’s one of the reasons I’ve always loved him so much; he has an immense capacity for love.
I tried loving others, but it never worked out. I guess that’s why it was so incredibly difficult to see him in love with another man. I thought that if I couldn’t find love again, he must feel the same way.
I believed he would love me for the rest of his life, as I will love him for the rest of mine. But that wasn’t and isn’t the case.
So I closed the door on a love affair that changed my life and taught me more than anything else ever could. When you see the person you love fall in love with someone else, it breaks you.
You feel lost.
I distinctly remember the exact moment when I realized that our love would live forever in the past. I was at a loss for words.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know how to stand. I didn’t know if I should keep my hands inside or outside of my pockets.
My heart was racing. The wind was knocked out of me. I couldn’t spend another second talking to Lamont, because I knew I was about to break down. Love isn’t just about the emotions you’re feeling. It’s about what this person means to you.
It’s about the place they have in your life as well as your heart. When you realize that your loved one is in love with someone else, you see that the life you thought you’d have is no longer possible.
Then you do your best to figure out how to cope with it.
A part of you dies.
I wish I could tell you which part that is, but I haven’t yet been able to pin it down. But you’ll know you’re a different person than you were an hour ago.
You’ll no longer feel or look at the world in the same way. You’ll stop pursing the same things. Your life has just changed. YOU have just changed.
The hardest part is accepting your new self. It’s not that you’ve changed into a complete stranger; you still recognize yourself. You just know that you’re now different.
The problem is that you don’t want to be different. You don’t want to change. You don’t want a different life. All that you want is to turn back time and figure out a way to make things work. But you can’t.
You begin to redefine yourself.
There is one positive outcome from this: You shed excess. You let go of the stress and worry of not knowing how things will turn out, because now you know the answer.
You learn to steer your thoughts away from your ex, and you discover that you have more time for other areas of your life.
The part of you that just died gives room for growth. You now have a partially blank slate. You get the opportunity to rewrite and redefine the person you are.
From the ashes of your love rises a new you. You start to once again get a grasp on your life, your reality and your future.
You either confirm your beliefs or change them.
I was smart enough to understand where things were going before they got there. Of course, I couldn’t know anything for certain. But I did understand the likelihood of each possible outcome.
I confirmed my theories about love and life because I was able to see the end before it arrived.
This doesn’t change the fact that I was caught off-guard. I may have understood how things were going, but I didn’t want to watch.
I wanted to be with him, to create a life together. I wanted to start a family. I wanted — and was ready — to be the man, partner and lover that he had always wanted. But none of that mattered then nor now.
What matters is that I learned. I have a better, fuller understanding of things. Life’s greatest tragedies can be life’s greatest gifts — only if we are wise enough to learn from them. Our beliefs define us and determine our future.
Learning to accept that the the person you love has fallen in love with someone else can teach you some of life’s most important lessons.
If you don’t confirm your beliefs then your beliefs must be wrong and therefore must be changed. The question is: do you have it in you to redefine your beliefs, to redefine what you think the purpose of all this is? Or will you join the masses and refuse to change, refuse to adapt, and sign away any chance of living a good and righteous life?