It’s the end of July and sometimes there’s this boy who gets on my mind from time to time. It’s been like that for a while now, though. I think he knows but I don’t think he cares, which is fine. I think he might’ve blocked me from his mind. I almost sort of hope he has. I hope he hasn’t thought about me, or us, and these last couple of months weren’t lost just because he was confused and scared.
I wrote about this boy once before. Do you remember how I told you all he wouldn’t read it? He did. I had a feeling he would, though; he was predictable like that.
He flits through my mind at the most inopportune times and the strangest reminders of him pop out of nowhere.
I didn’t want to talk to him, mostly because I don’t believe in closure, but also because I’m sure he had no desire to talk to me. When someone walks away from you, you let them go.
When you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.
I remember it getting particularly bad one day. I don’t remember for what reason. And I got so mad at him. For everything.
I’m only human…and despite popular belief, sometimes I do actually have a heart. And mine had gotten so badly hurt. If he ever reads this post, I think he’ll probably laugh. I think maybe the entire thing might’ve been some kind of a game to him. And if it was? Then that’s fine. Go ahead: Laugh at me. Look at how much I cared. I’m no fool, but for you I was. Boy, you really got me. Congratulations, because you were the first person to do that. Make fun of me for having feelings and for letting myself be vulnerable. At least I’m real.
But also, make no mistake: I do not need him. He is replaceable. His actions, at the end of the day, say nothing about my worth, but everything about his character. He will not be the first, and now he will not be the last.
Just because I miss you doesn’t mean I’m not ready to move forward…This isn’t a fairy tale or the latest Nicholas Sparks movie in the making. It’s the real world, the one you chose to leave me behind in. One day it’ll all make sense, the pain will have subsided and I will understand everything happened for a reason.
I’m sorry if his insecurities got the best of him, because I think that’s what happened. I also think he should’ve talked to me, but that’s none of my business anymore. But if nothing else, I think he should’ve realized that he was in my life because I wanted him there. If I really didn’t want him there, he would’ve known immediately after the first date because he, more than anyone else, knows that I wouldn’t have wasted my time or his.
I picked him.
He had earned his way and my reasons behind why were my reasons. He was not there by accident or by some crazy mistake. I honestly could’ve learned so much from him. Was I convinced he was my perfect fit? No. And to be honest, that scared me. It scared me because I was happy. And because I was happy, it meant that I had something to lose. But I still took a chance on him and let me tell all of you, taking chances is really fucking scary. But do you want to know what’s even scarier? Me not knowing if it would’ve worked out and missing out on something that had the potential to be truly wonderful because I was scared. So I was willing to try. And I did. And now I know. Anyway, perfection doesn’t exist. That’s what compromise and communication are for. He opened up this crazy new dynamic for me and I liked it and then he took it all away.
One of the cruelest things a person can do is to awaken someone’s love without the intention of truly loving them.
But none of that is relevant now because we don’t talk anymore.
I recently wrote a blog post titled, “What is Having it All?”
To give you a short summary: I wrote about how my life looks so together from the outside. And honestly, for the most part, my life is pretty together. But what I want to tell all of you is this: despite all of the smiles and the crazy adventures and the nights I definitely won’t forget, I wasn’t fine. Not all the time, at least. And that’s why I’m choosing to talk about this boy again.
I wasn’t fine with someone giving me their all, seemingly giving me the world (even though I never asked for it), and then ripping it away from me in an instant, without so much as to ask how I was feeling. Or what I was thinking. Or if I even agreed with him.
I wasn’t fine with thinking that I could finally be confident in someone (because that’s what he made me think based on his actions and his words), only for him to walk away. I didn’t deserve that. I sort of wished I had. It would’ve made it easier.
I wasn’t fine knowing that I had to bite my tongue throughout the entire thing.
I wasn’t fine with any of it.
I just wasn’t fine.
I spent a lot of time thinking. There were some days where I actually was fine, where I didn’t think about it at all. But then there were other days where his memory would creep back in, no matter how hard I pushed it down. Some days I was sad, some days I was mad, some days I just felt sick to my stomach over it all.
But here’s the thing: none of you would know any of that because that’s not what I let you see.
I get so many texts, direct messages and notifications throughout my days, weeks and months asking about my life. How do I find my strength? How do I get to where I am in life? How do I find time to do this or that? Why is everything I do so cool?
I wish I had answers. I never do. I always just do the things that I want to do. I’m never trying to impress anyone but myself.
And as happy as I am, there were still days where I’d feel the dull ache of his absence. But why would I post about that? About how lost I was?
When I wasn’t out gallivanting, or at work, or doing whatever adventure I’d challenged myself to that week, I’d spend a lot of my time reading. I read so much. I finished so many novels. My article tally must’ve reached close to 1,000. I was consuming so much information. But one thing stuck with me.
I came across an article on Refinery29, by Ronda Rousey. Below is a small excerpt.
The perfect angles, the perfect outfits, the perfect lighting. That’s not reality. What is real are imperfections. What builds character and toughness is struggle. What makes us better and more human is attempting something, coming up short, and then trying it again.
That’s when I knew I needed to be done. Not permanently. But at least for a little while. I needed to be away from it all. Trying to ignore what this boy had done by showing how amazing my life is was exhausting. Not that I was doing it intentionally, but what was I honestly trying to prove with all of the pictures and tweets and posts showing how happy I was? That struggle, and the fact that I was hurting, that only made me real. That made me imperfect. That made me human.
I decided I needed a break.
I ditched my phone, my computer, really anything that I could (within reason). I packed up some books, added a few notepads and then I left. Did any of you even notice that I was gone? Probably not. Because I didn’t tell any of you.
I was constantly outside; I spent a lot of time by the water. My skin turned golden and my hair turned light. I hardly bothered to notice.
I ate a lot of ice cream and didn’t count the calories. (Why does anyone ever count calories to begin with? Don’t they want to enjoy life?)
I left my FitBit at home and ran the beach until my legs told me they were done. I could’ve run for 20 minutes or for an hour. I don’t know; I never kept track.
I tried new experiences and none of you know about any of them.
Especially now more than ever, since WearsByRis has really started to become its own entity, my life is more or less always in the spotlight. Sometimes I choose for my life to be that way, but not always. I’ve started to separate WearsByRis from Marisa, so I can still have my privacy, but regardless, people love to know what I’m doing. Whether it’s because they genuinely care, or because they just want to keep tabs, I’ll never know.
Disconnecting taught me that there is something to be said for an adventure that you don’t have to share with anyone but yourself, and whomever you were with.
There are pictures none of you will ever see.
There are inside jokes none of you will ever hear.
There are friendships none of you will ever understand.
And that’s okay because what I post does not constitute my worth.
A status does not justify my support.
A picture does not equate my experiences.
A tweet does not indicate my emotional state.
I live this wild and crazy and incredible life. I love it more than you could imagine and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. The highs are high and the lows are low. I’m the most fearless and strong-willed person you will ever meet. I’m loyal and I will fight for what I believe in. But with all of my strength, there is also weakness. I get scared and I cry and sometimes all I really need is a god damn hug. But I’m not ashamed of it anymore. And neither should any of you. Embrace what you’re feeling. I’m not saying that we need to start posting every time we’re not feeling okay. I think we should all keep posting what we want to post. All I’m saying is that we need to start taking pictures and snapchats and tweets and all of the social media with a grain of salt. Let’s stop equating these things to a person’s entire life. Life is more than a picture, or a 10-second interval…so why are we treating it like it is? Let’s just change the conversation: weaknesses do not mean that we’re weak. Instead, lets all look at our weaknesses as our greatest strength. Think about it: weaknesses have helped shape me into who I am, who I’ve become, who I’m yet to be. And no doubt, your weaknesses will do the same for you. So why are we looking at something that makes us…well us, as being negative?
Because after all, we’re all only human.
And do you want to know something?
We’re all going to be fine.