My own wrecking ball . . .

“I’m so scared for you. That you won’t let anyone love you.”

When I was nineteen years old I was in a relationship with my soulmate. My definition of soulmate is taken from the popular book Eat, Pray, Love;

“People think a soulmate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soulmate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soulmate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soulmates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soulmates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life…”

My soulmate was Paul.

Paul died three years ago. We were together during University. Myself in London and him in Wales. We would travel each weekend to see each other, in London or Wales or our collective home town where we originally met.

Paul showed me a side of myself I hadn’t known existed. He showed me my walls.

I remember exactly where we were, what was around us, the words he said and how I felt when he opened my eyes for the first time.

To think of it now breaks my heart. He showed me everything I built to protect myself that I hadn’t even realised I had created. He spoke those words to me seemingly out of the blue. “Im so scared for you. That you won’t let anyone love you. You won’t let them in. Not just for me, but for anyone in your future. You have so much love to give.”

Yesterday I sent a message to the guy I was allowing to get close to me. Last month I sent the hardest message I have written in the longest time to him, opening myself up, as uncomfortable as it made me at the time, I sent the message filled with my true feelings about us. Everything about us. A few days ago I revealed my eating disorder to him.

I don’t know if I revealed too much, for me or for him. And I don’t know if anything has changed with him because we haven’t really spoken since; which could be the reason I feel things have changed.

Yesterday’s message closed a door on us meeting before I return to the UK in January. I was planning to follow my heart and fly back to England to meet him for three weeks as neither of us could wait until my six months was ended.

After revealing my weight concern to him and the reasons behind it – only revealed after he expressed a separate concern of his for our meeting – I felt like I was lead out on a tightrope and left there. My message met with near-silence was too much to bear. For me to then ask whether he still wanted to meet after this revelation to be met with more silence I placed my bricks in the pile ready for the wall-building.

I spent today with no messages from him. No response to my last message, and I am anticipating no further response now.

The idea that I have lifted a weight from his shoulders in being the initiator of this has passed my mind a lot.

I was willing to leave my adventure for him. In all honesty I still am.

Paul scared me with his words; am I building walls around me because I let him in? Or does he really not care and I did the right thing?

All I know is I don’t give my heart easily. And I wanted to give it to him based on what I knew so far. As my older post referring to my note on C emphasises I am looking for a love that consumes me. A love that makes my heart skip and dance and sing when I get a message from him. I had this. I’m not saying I was in love with him, I don’t know him yet. But I had this feeling in me. And now I have closed myself off in protection. Protection of pride more than anything; my feminist-self refuses to wait around for a guy to tell me if he wants me. If someone wants to be with you they want to be with you. There really is no middle ground in that. I was willing to spend twenty-four hours round-trip in the air, crossing an Ocean and several timezones to be with him.

Am I strong or weak for my actions? I won’t know until time has passed. All I know is I didn’t want it to end, but I can’t dismiss my feelings – any feelings.

Instead of travelling back to the UK to be with him I am now planning to travel to Hawaii for a few weeks break. I don’t do things by halves during this trip.

Maybe things will happen in that time and maybe not. Maybe I will get to meet him before my return in January, or after January, or maybe he could be married to someone else by the time I get back. I have no idea.

I only hope that my head becomes clearer on matters like this, and that any walls I accidentally build are once again broken by the right person.

And that ‘right person’ could be me . . .



2 thoughts on “My own wrecking ball . . .”

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