I Choose You, Love

by Aleona de Kama

  I love you and I am happy that you entered my life so boldly and persistently, even now when you are gone. Yes, Love, I love you and I’m happy that I had the opportunity to experience every moment with you, to allow you to change me so much, to provoke me so much, to help me understand so much about myself and about you too. Yes, Love, I love you, and I’m saying it not for your sake but for mine. I’m not afraid of this word, I’m not afraid of those feelings, I’m not even afraid that I might have lost you forever. I’m glad I had the opportunity to experience all this, even if it was just a fleeting moment.

  I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what incited you to take these big steps without even finding the strength or courage to tell me. To look me in the eyes before you went, to say goodbye. It still hurts me a lot. I miss you. There is a huge void inside of me. I don’t know how we managed to get so close so soon, to become one. I don’t know how you managed to get so deep inside me. But I’m happy that you succeeded. I am happy because now, when I look back at all our shared memories, I feel love. Happiness. And completeness. You were the One for me. The only person whom I let into my heart. The only one who managed to win my heart with such ease. The only one I can say I love.

  Yes, it still hurts me a great deal. But I am moving on, Love. I thought a lot, I blamed myself, I wondered why I was so stupid to look so far into the future. Why did I not ask you what troubled you, why did I not comfort you? But then I realized that all these things mattered indeed, but they are not the reason for your decision. I know you as well as I know myself. Perhaps, it’s not that much, because it turned out that I didn’t know myself that well before meeting you. But I know you well enough. Well enough to be able to judge that there is something “more” behind your decision. It pains me that you did not find the strength to come and tell me, because I strongly believe that we could have found a better solution to every problem together. I know that I was ready for you, and you were ready for me. But anyhow, your decision has been made. And it has nothing to do with me. So, I forgive you, Love. I forgive myself so I can move on. I’m not saying there’s no going back. I don’t know what the future holds for us and I don’t want to know. But I know that I am ready to stand up and continue with my life. I might meet you tomorrow, or maybe never again. But I want you to know what a great part you were in my life, part of me. I want you to know that I thank you for every moment we shared together. I want you to know that I love you. And I will continue to love you, because for a moment of eternity we were one. And that’s something momentous. That is all that matters.

  So, Love, farewell. Be happy. Be Loved. Not for my sake but be loved for yours. I shall do the same.’

  I finished the letter, and all the time tears fell from my eyes. I finished the letter and started crying even louder. Again. Strong and heartrending. But these were tears that purified, liberated, the very last, goodbye tears. These tears washed away from me the last remnants of pain and guilt. I did not send the email right away. I saved it on my computer. I had the strange feeling that even if I did not send it, it had already played its part. For me. Why? Because I was able to pour out everything I thought and felt. I managed to assert myself, to forgive myself, to bridge this gaping abyss within me. Yes, this letter alone was enough to help me stand up and yet I knew I would send it. I was not in a hurry, because sending it was not the most important thing. It was writing it. Because in fact, I did not expect an answer. The act of sending was like closing one door and getting ready to open another one.

  I stayed two more days in the village. Two days of total idleness. Once more. I chatted with my grandmother, went for walks, and watched the flames in the fireplace. I felt their warmth. I drank tea. I feasted on my grandmother’s meals. I let myself be pampered. I was beginning to feel like myself again. I was going back to my roots. Two days in which I allowed myself to recover at the right speed for me. Two days in which I pulled myself together; becoming stronger, more confident and ready to face the future.

  Then I realized that our life in the fast lane does not allow us to pay attention to ourselves. Very often we are pressed for time, divided between work, family, children, and various tasks, and this prevents us from getting the deserved rest. Personal time out. A vacation during which we can recollect our thoughts, evaluate, feel. Or just do nothing. Just relax, restart, recharge. In fact, that was the main reason for burnouts, all the stupid things we do from over-exhaustion, giving up. Whatever the reason – either work overload or domestic problems, parting from our partner, illness in the family, there are so many things that pile up in everyday life, so many things we are overburdened with. And sometimes, even if we can share some of these responsibilities with our relatives, we do not dare to, for fear of burdening them with our problems, when they have enough of their own.

  But it is important to understand that if we feel such tension and want a vacation only for ourselves, we should disregard all responsibilities. We should not think with whom to spend our holiday. We should ignore the sense of guilt that the days of our vacation are numbered. We should only ask for help and it is up to the other person to decide if such help is possible right then; whether to help with our duties or the transfer of such a burden would be too overwhelming. Very often we guess hastily what the decision of the other person would be, even without attempting to ask. But then, we make the mistake of inferring in general from one snub alone that by asking for help and begging we are invading their privacy. No! It’s not like that! And in that very instant, I pledged to myself that when my responsibilities become more in the future, such as a husband, or children, always to find time to spend alone without feeling guilty. I promised to share everything with him, I promised to be truthful to myself. I pledged to insist on personal time without a guilty conscience.

  After this curative and vital sojourn at the village, I went home. I went back to work. I rearranged myself and my flat, and a little bit later I began to organize my life. I saw my family. I also saw my friends. When they learned what had happened, they wanted to know all the details. That’s what friends do. Maybe they thought they were giving me support. But I no longer needed this kind of support, I no longer needed to go over and over the events again and again. I had already found strength and courage to stand up and move on. So, I briefly told them what I thought and I assured them that I preferred not to dwell on the past, because this was already behind me. I had moved on, even by taking only one step, but I was moving forward. And continuing to analyze a situation from the past meant that I was refusing to let go. But I was not. I also met Danny and he seemed to be on edge, expecting to see me crushed. He expected me to question him again, even blame him, for not helping me, for taking a different side. But I had no need. On the contrary. I understood his choice, his decision. And I accepted it. But did I like it? I did not even try to analyze. Did I feel somehow betrayed by him? Certainly not. Even to consider such a thing, or voice it, would be manipulation. Daniel was a mutual friend – mine and Phillip’s, and to measure his friendship in such a vile way – to betray Phillip by telling me something – it wasn’t me. Closing this chapter of my life, leaving Phillip in the past, I automatically cast off everything related to him – the useless discussions with my girlfriends or making Daniel feel responsible. Phillip’s decisions were his alone and had nothing to do with me or the relationship with my friends.

  Two weeks had passed since I had written the letter to Phillip, and I had not sent it yet. I realized this when I was at work looking for a file I had to send to my bosses urgently and then, since in my creative, messy manner, I had no idea where I had saved it, I came across the letter. I saw it and froze. Indeed, I had given myself the deserved break, but now I was back to my hectic daily routine. I was emerged in tasks that had gathered in my absence. I immediately went back to my social life and the many hobbies, interests, and contacts I had had before Phillip appeared in my life. I did so many things in the past two weeks that they seemed like two months. I saw the lette
r and froze truly. For a fraction of a second, I was drowned by a flood of emotions. They poured over me, but I managed to pull myself together quickly. I copied the letter on the desktop to decide later whether I actually wanted to send it and continued searching for the file I needed. The rest of my day passed swiftly. Leaving the office, I took my computer. This time I had not forgotten about the letter. Now I wanted to decide whether to send it or not and finish it once and for all.

  I went home. I poured myself a glass of red wine. I put on some nice, gentle music. I lit candles. I created an atmosphere of support. Caring. And once again I realized how strong I was in fact. I realized that I should be grateful for the comfort of my home. That I should be grateful for everything I had in my life and what I had achieved. For the family that always supported me. For the friends who lived through my experience as it were their own and were ready to do whatever I asked them in order for me to feel supported.

  At moments when I had to take a big decision consciously, I liked first to create a pleasant atmosphere. I liked to allow myself to relax and to be able to take such decisions not only with my mind, but also with my heart.

  I sat comfortably on the sofa in the living room. So many things had happened in this living room. It knew all my moods. I smiled. Subtly, I had begun to sink into memories of Phillip. I continued to smile. There were tears in my eyes. But this time there was no pain. The pain was gone. The blame. The anger. The shame. The loneliness. The sadness. Everything was gone. And in their place, were all those pleasant emotions from all the beautiful moments I had experienced with this man. Like a reminiscence of the bygone summer. Distant and, at the same time, so close. Warm. Sunny. Filled with so much love, with so many smiles. Yes, my eyes were filled with tears. But these were not tears of pain. They were tears of love. Of love gone by.

  I took a sip of wine. It had a captivating aroma and a tingling taste. The scent of the candle was already wafting in the room. Vanilla and something else. Honey maybe? I surrendered to my senses and knew what I was going to do. I was going to send the letter. Immediately. I was certain in my choice. I turned on the computer. Then I realized that I did not actually have Phillip’s email address. We had only talked on the phone or used Facebook to communicate. I had never needed to send him an email. I thought I could take his contacts from his company’s website because I didn’t want to involve Daniel again. But it was not an appealing option for me. The very notion that one of his employees, for example, his secretary had access to his email, repelled me. This was a confidential letter. It was too personal to send to his business email address.

  And then I remembered that once he had asked me to send a package to his home by courier and I had his exact address. This was an even better idea – to send the letter by post, there was even the probability that it would not reach him, it would get lost. Something impossible to happen with an email. This idea reassured me because sending it by post, I reduced the expectations of receiving a reply. I didn’t know how long it would take for the letter to reach him; it would not reach the other end of the world in a fraction of a second, as would be the case with sending an email. It could get lost somewhere on the way. It could get ignored in the mailbox. Who cares nowadays about mail sent by post, everything important is sent online. Yes, this was a wonderful idea. Liberating. I wanted to send the letter because I felt like it. Whether it would reach Phillip, it depended on many things, and knowing that he might never even read it did not awaken illusions and false expectations in me. Expectations that would have robbed me of my energy. If something was meant to happen, it would happen and it made no sense to live in hope.

  I wrote down the postal address so that I could send the letter the following day, turned off the computer and let myself immerse into the pleasant atmosphere surrounding me. The coziness of home. The scent of the wine. The flicker of the candle. The evening sounds in the big city. I was happy. For having all that and for not having everything. For being myself. I was happy in this very moment.

  Chapter 20

  Little by little my life went back to the well-known routine. But I was changed. The things I had been through greatly differed from what I had experienced before and that transformed me. My relationship with Phillip had provoked me to make a quantum leap forward in the knowledge of myself. I had allowed someone to get close to the real me, I had opened up to another person, I had allowed myself to discover love and intimacy, I had allowed myself to become vulnerable.

  Gradually everything returned to the old rhythm. I started working again, meeting friends and family. I began to take care of myself, to go out and meet different people. I had sent the letter, and afterwards I had forgotten about it. I was slightly worried that by sending it, I would open old wounds, waiting to get an answer all the time. But I found I was ready for this move, that I had closed the chapter with Phillip, and the sending of the letter was the final item of this chapter. I was proud of myself for how swiftly I had recovered.

  Yes, my life went on in its well-known routine, with a small but significant difference: I was now ready to communicate with men in a different way. Not only to look for a superficial relationship, but to look for one with a future. One evening I surprised myself by agreeing to go out on a date with a nice guy. I was not sure whether I was ready to start dating men, but in the end I decided that if I did not try, I would not know how things were. I let one of my girlfriends arrange this blind date, which was unusual for me, and I went out. I thought I deserved to give myself a chance.

  What is meant to be shall be. All kinds of thoughts crossed my mind. Several times, I wondered if I should cancel the date. I was worried that I would not be able to relax and hold a normal conversation. I was afraid that I would reject the guy right from the start, compare him to Phillip all the time, and that it would be a step back for me and not forward. But finally the evening came, and I decided to stop thinking about the different options and just see how I felt. I was pleasantly surprised. The evening passed lightly, and in no time, I was able to forget about the past, I did not make comparisons or ungrounded rejections. The conversation was flowing casually and cheerfully, and I was extremely pleased with myself. I was ready to see this boy again without thinking much about what might happen next. But at the end of the evening he approached me directly and stated that at this point he was purely career-oriented and was not looking for a serious relationship. He said that he liked me a lot, but he wanted me to be honest and would be happy if I would agree to this kind of open relationship. At the first moment I was startled by his honesty because, to be fair, I did not expect such a move. Then I was glad that I was attracting men who didn’t want serious relationships and were ready to admit it, even at the risk of losing what they wanted. Finally, I felt relieved. Relieved because I knew well what I wanted and what I didn’t want at this stage of my life. Yes, Phillip had definitely changed me, because I was ready to admit to myself foremost, and then to the man standing opposite me, that I was not interested in such superficial relationships. That was in my past. The past that I had left behind, and I was a different person, open and more aware. And I was ready to start a relationship with someone willing to give just as much as I was.

  Understanding this huge transition in my life, I became much more confident with men. As if fate was testing me, I met such men several times, but I had learned my lesson. Yes, I had. However interesting and attractive these men were, they repelled me with their selfishness in declaring their desire for two-timing, frivolous or purely sexual relations. Now I was certain that the next person I would get involved with would possess all the qualities I found attractive in men, but at the same time he would be at the same stage in his life as me – been through relationships with many and different women and realizing that he wanted something more, something real.

  Many people are under the misconception that it is normal to lose one’s enthusiasm after many failed relationships. To lose faith. To lose or to lower your expectations that you would m
eet the one person made for you. Especially when you had that person, even for a short time, and then you lost him. Yes, many people have the misconception that, with the passing of years and love experiences, choices diminish, so we have to lower our criteria and thrill from the people we meet and put up with something other than what we actually want. To make a virtue of necessity. God, how I hate this expression! It’s up to us if we decide to make a compromise and we can only blame ourselves. No, I do not want to make compromises, I choose not to do it. Why? Because it would mean accepting as a true fact and convincing myself that what I want, what I seek, is gone, therefore I should be content with less. I refuse to live with such thoughts. I refuse to make a compromise. Making a compromise is another way of giving up. And I believe that I take my decisions consciously. And I can change them only if I decide that I want something better, and not worse.

  Yes, a lot of things happened to me in a short time. I lived at full speed and had many disappointments in love. But the encouraging truth was that the more self-assured I was in my expectations of life, the easier it was to overcome the disappointments. And the disappointments made me even more convinced that I should never compromise. I did not consider that what I wanted was impossible, on the contrary; there was a growing feeling that I was getting closer and closer to the perfect man who suited me best, complemented me, was my reflection. To be both my likeness and my opposite, and our love would help me grow and become a better person.

  It was that time of the year: Christmas time. One of my favorite periods of the year. Filled with emotions, a festive mood, occasions to gather with our loved ones, to spread tables with delicious meals, a time of hugs and smiles. I love Christmas because of all this, but mostly because of the warmth in people’s eyes. We seem to be much more willing to open our hearts for love. We are much more inclined to see the good in people, to try to accept them even if we do not understand them. We seem to be more eager to help, to give a hand, to wish everyone the best, even strangers, from our hearts.