The One

I used to have this person who I would go to hell and back for, until this person wasn’t anymore.

I won’t disregard everything we’ve been through. I fought, I hurt, and I suffered. I jeopardized plenty of my other relationships for it without any regrets or blame. Sure, at the time, a few months after we’ve separated, maybe I did. When you’ve given your all without being aware of the consequences, exhaustion is bound to happen. You can become bitter and cold-hearted. And it might take years, like in my case, to recover. But as I grew older, my heart has become at peace with the events of the past, as everyone should at some point. The emotional part of myself is delayed, so it took me longer than usual but I made it now.

And with all things said, I wonder how it would feel like to have that kind of person with the kind of person I am now.

I wonder how a person would feel if I had given them my undivided attention and support, even in their little quirks. How they would feel if I helped carry the weight of their burdens, even when they are drowning to the point of no salvation. How they would feel if I showed them what unconditional love felt like, even and especially when they think they don’t deserve it. I wonder how they would feel if I told them how beautiful they were, even in their lowest. I wonder how they’ll take it all.

Then I realized that I was so concerned and desperate to look for someone to give all of that to, when I should be giving it first to myself.

I’ve resolved to be selfless and accustomed to pushing myself out of the spotlight since I was young. As the eldest in the family that was short of ideal, I had to be. I needed to put other people’s needs and burdens a priority over mine because I thought mine was too shallow or superficial, until I didn’t know I completely disregarded myself even when I needed it the most. And then when I got bullied a lot during my teen years over my physical appearance was just the icing on the cake. As a result, I insult myself more than anyone else. I have accepted being no one’s first choice. Everything that’s been thrown at me has made me turn from stone to steel. Tears don’t come easy for me, but when they do it’s usually hidden from everyone. I don’t know how to express myself without sounding logical or heartless. I don’t think I can even say sorry and thank you without looking uncomfortable, my face contorting like I just got a root canal. My self-pity is my source of entertainment and a constant butt of all my jokes. I self-depreciate a lot more than I eat on a daily basis. Overall, I am emotionally constipated.

As I slowly move out of my former self, particularly when I moved out, there were tiny changes in me. I rejoiced my tiny little victories and laugh at my tiny mistakes. I opened myself up to people without the fear of being judged. I’ve learned to distance myself from people who don’t bring out the best version of myself. I let the tears overflow when they want to. I say my gratitude even if I look like a shy 5 year old when I do it. And I simply became kinder to myself.

I know there’s a person for me out there. Or not. But in case I don’t have one, that’s okay. I need to make up for all the times I did not choose myself anyway. And this time I will.

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