“He was never mine, but losing him broke my heart.”
Last week I had a dream about someone that I haven’t thought about in a while. Thinking about him used to be a daily routine for me. I’d wonder what he was doing at the moment, what he was eating for lunch, what he was watching on Netflix, what he thought about in his free time. I thought about him a lot. It was my favorite thing to do.
I hate talking about him. Mostly because of the embarrassment. My friends and family don’t know. I’ve only spoken about him to a couple of people.
You see, I didn’t actually know him. I only met him one time, for just a moment. So, for me to say that I loved him is really embarrassing. But I did, for the better part of 6 years.
I knew everything that I could know about him without actually knowing him. I could put the CIA to shame with my investigative skills. I lived within a few miles of him, knew his friends, shopped at the same grocery store… ok this is starting to sound like I’m a stalker. I guess I kinda am. I didn’t mean for it to be creepy though.
Actually, I had hoped that someday I would casually run into him accidentally, that really wasn’t accidental at all. I imagined that a mutual friend would introduce us, knowing how perfect we were for each other.
Instead, he met someone else and they got married.
I’d never felt so much pain in my life. I had no idea that emotional pain could cause that kind of physical pain. I realized how people can die of a broken heart. It really does cause immense physical pain. I thought that I would never be the same again. It was everything I could do to make it through just one day. But somehow I did. Day after day passed and the pain stayed.
For a while, I hung onto hope. But after a few months had passed I realized that I should move on. I didn’t know how. How was I going to stop thinking about him? I thought about him constantly. I couldn’t fathom NOT thinking about him. I couldn’t even imagine it.
I sat with the idea for a while, imagining a life without him. At first, it hurt. But slowly I started to like the idea. I don’t remember when exactly I made the decision, but I finally decided to stop, to let him go completely. It took a conscious effort to let him go. It was slow at first, and then all of the sudden.
One day I realized that I hadn’t thought about him. I felt a tinge of pain because I was losing him, but also hope that I was capable of going through the day without him. Eventually, I realized it had been weeks and even months since I’d thought about him. And the pain was gone, which is the best feeling.
INFJ Love Story
I’ve read a lot about INFJs and love. We seem to have a lot of trouble finding the right person. We don’t get attached to people like others do. We’re not here for the superficial things. We don’t like small talk, swiping apps or singles dating events. We want something that is a lot deeper. We want deep conversations about the meaning of life and the dark side of the moon. That’s not easy to come by.
And finding someone who you like to look at and talk to, who is single, available, the sexual orientation you want and the gender you want… well, it’s exhausting.
What’s the answer?
People ask me questions about relationships all the time. I want to laugh when I see them. Not that I mind people asking me questions, it’s just the I’m the WORST person in the world to answer relationship questions. I can tell you what not to do. That’s about it.
I’ve asked all of my friends how they met their spouses. All of them have these cute little stories about how their whole world changed. One met her husband in a diner she was working at. One grew up with her husband and they always knew they would end up together. One got divorced and moved into an apartment with roommates, one of whom ended up being her husband.
The stories seem so simple, yet so complicated. So close, yet so far. One of these days I hope I get to have a story like this of my own. For now, I have to deal with the waiting and the not knowing. It’s a whole different kind of pain.
Here’s the point
The point is I want you to remember that there’s always hope, even when it seems so far away and so impossible. It’s so simple. You just have to reach out there and grab it. You might have to put a little bit of effort into it, but when you do, the pain will go away. Maybe not all at once. Maybe it will be slow at first, but it will come.
Maybe you’ll have to sit with the pain and the uncertainty for a while. Maybe it will feel weird or embarrassing. Maybe you’ll have to admit to yourself that you did something that you knew would lead to pain, but you did it anyway. Hopefully, you can forgive yourself for this, as I have.
This life may not be what you thought it was going to be, but it can still be amazing and wonderful. It’s never too late. You’re never too old. There’s always hope.