I've been thinking a lot lately, mainly because I've been given a lot to think about recently. Things have changed. Big things...important, weighty things. Things that defined me in a profound way are dramatically different from the way they were a mere few weeks ago. Now I'm faced with the challenge of collecting the splintered fragments and deciding whether to attempt to carefully yet frantically piece them back together or to cast them out altogether, walk away, and start all over.

Now, anyone who knows anything worth knowing about me knows that I'm not one to give up, throw in the towel, wave my white flag... however you want to put it, it's not something I do. I don't surrender when I'm invested. That's another thing: It takes a lot for me to commit, but once I do, I'm fully, completely, unshakably committed. I'm the "all or nothing" type. If I'm with you, I'm with you and that's the beginning and the end of everything. Once I make a decision, I stick to it and making me change my mind is as near to impossible as it gets. So, as you can imagine, endings don't particularly sit right with me. Especially when they're endings of relationships. Letting go of a person who inhabits a significant space in my life is not something that I cope well with. It never has been, but this time...this time it's infinitely harder than it's ever been. It's nothing I can put into words, nothing I can explain, nothing that will make sense to anyone else.

Don't get me wrong, I had fair warning. I had been anticipating this outcome. It was a long time coming. I was just hoping that I was wrong. I was holding onto the hope that, once again, he would surprise me and respond in just the right way and say all the right things and remind me all over again how perfect he is and how much I love him and want to fill my forever with him and only him. I knew I was dreaming, because this time was different than all the others. I could wish and hope and dream to the ends of the earth, but in the back of my mind, I knew that this would be the thing that broke us. This was the thing that would make everything we had built up so high come crashing down around us. I was completely cognizant of that, and yet, I jump started the avalanche. It was faith that brought me to that decision and it's faith that keeps me standing here now.

Relationships are difficult, no matter what the individual circumstance of each specific relationship may be. Being with another person on that level is no effortless journey. Relationships are messy and complicated. But, standing where I stand now, I can still say that they are worth it. The good ones are, anyway. This relationship, which has recently slipped through my fingers so swiftly, was one of the good ones. It heavily characterized my life for the better part of two years (five years if we count everything that lead up to it) and I don't regret any of that time. It was not time wasted by any means. They were some of the greatest and most definitive years of my life. I wouldn't give back a second of it for anything this world could possibly offer. I will forever cherish the memories of those two fleeting years. I will always deeply appreciate and look fondly upon the time that I was able to spend with one of the greatest men I have ever known. He truly was, and is, one of the good ones. Unfortunately, at least for right now, it just wasn't right. I learned a lot about myself and about life and relationships during that time with him. He taught me what I want in a man and what I absolutely do not, how to argue lovingly, how to ask for what I want, how to fight for what I love, and how I should be treated in a relationship. He also taught me how to love, and really love another person. For all of these things, I am eternally grateful. His presence in my life has been both a beautiful blessing and a heartbreaking lesson.

Another funny thing about relationships is that everyone else is always right. What I mean, is that once you're out of it, it's a lot easier to see things that you were blind to while you were in the middle of it. Of course, no one can see what you see from the inside, but seeing both outlooks opens your eyes in a very real way. For me, once it was over, I finally was able to see the flaws in our relationship that had really been there all along. But I loved him more than I worried about our problems and I was always willing to fight through them. But, therein lies problem number one: I was always the one fighting. From the start, I fought through the criticism, the challenges, the adversity, the doubts. I fought for him and I fought for a future for us. I fought and fought and fought. I would never say that he was unappreciative of that fact, but he never really returned the favor. Not that I would have ever asked that of him or thought that he "owed me" for anything, it's just something that stands out to me.

Along those same lines, I also came to the realization that I was constantly compromising, but once again, I was the only one in the relationship doing so. There's a difference between making compromises and compromising yourself. In the end, I was doing much more of the latter. I was expending myself so far that there was very little left to be spent anywhere else. I began to lose myself in my efforts to make him happy and be the person that he needed. Somewhere along the way, I forgot to remember that I needed to be the person that I needed myself to be. I needed to be person that God designed me to be. I was giving all of myself, because I loved him, and still love him, more than I have ever loved another person, and I wanted to do and be everything that I could for him. I love/loved him that much. I was in it, I was committed and I wasn't about to devote myself with only part of my being.

He loved me. I will never doubt that, but in the end there were things that were greater than the "you and me" that we had built. One thing, really. But what we shared was the realest thing that I have ever known. It's something that I will keep with me forever. He is my first love and that's something that I won't easily forget. Only time will tell if I will ever truly be able to let go of him and what we had. It's hard to imagine being with anyone else that way again. I honestly believe that I am the kind of person who only has it in her to love that way once in a lifetime. To give myself to someone so completely again seems almost unfathomable. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I just need some time to heal and become whole on my own again.

So, here is what I have concluded. The best thing that I can do for myself at this point in my life is to just be on my own and allow myself to grow and live out my life without a man as my crutch until I know that I can stand on my own two feet and be content where I am. It might take a long time, but I'm willing to endure that. I know that this is what I need right now. I have spent the last three years of my life building my life around other people. This is the time that I need to be a little selfish and do things for myself and stop forgetting that I have needs and wants and dreams of my own. I have to finally start making myself a priority and recognize that I have worth. This is what I need. This is what I'm going to do from this point on.

One day...one day maybe I will be able to open myself up enough to love someone else, but that's going to take a great deal of time. And when I do, I will make sure that the man I choose to commit myself to is different than the ones before. One common characteristic of all of the men in my past is that each one had a strong desire to change me in one way or another. So, if the day comes that I'm ready for that kind of a relationship again, I am going to search far and wide for the man that accepts, adores, and wants me exactly as I come. That's all I want. It's all I've ever wanted and I won't settle until I find exactly that. But for now, I am going to rediscover what it's like to be on my own and learn to love that feeling again. So, I've decided to let go of those splintered pieces. The best thing is for me to just let go and let life play out as it's supposed to. And for the first time in a long time, I'm doing this for me.

Since I started this, I might as well let it be read.

This is an entry I wrote a few weeks ago, but never published. It seemed unfinished at the time. Now it just seems fitting...

"I couldn't tell you why this happens. It doesn't really make sense to me either. It's just something that has become common in my life when things start to fall apart. It's a frightening feeling, being numb. Completely and totally numb. It's scary not knowing how you feel, but knowing that, considering the circumstances, you should be feeling something. But there's nothing there. It's almost as if you've been completely poured out and all that remains is an empty, hollow shell of a person. All you can do is hope that it's only temporary.

I don't know why this happens. It hasn't always been this way. I haven't always been this way. Maybe this is just my new way of coping. There are no tears, or sobs, or the staggered breathing that has become a sure-fire sign that there was something very not right with me. None of that is there now. I know what's happening and I know how I should feel, what a normal reaction to something like this would look like, but there is something prohibiting me from reacting accordingly.

It may not be possible for me to make sense of why this is the state I find myself in, but what I know for sure is what it's like. You're still able to function and go through the motions of your daily routines. You can go on as if everything is normal, and it almost feels as though it is. But there's something missing, something that doesn't really sit right in the pit of your stomach. You walk around as you would normally, you laugh at people's jokes and smile when they do. You exist, but very little more than that. You just are. A large part of you seems to be dormant. Not gone entirely, just...unreachable.

There are two possible explanations that make even an ounce of sense to me. The first: I physically cannot handle the pain that actually enduring the emotions that are bound to come with something like this would cause. My body simply cannot withstand that kind of agony and my brain is responding by playing defense. The second explanation is that the things that I am supposed to be feeling are so deeply rooted that they are unable to rise to the surface and penetrate the nerve endings in my brain that would send me into a very painful emotional tailspin.

Neither of these potential explanations are pleasant. Obviously. But, hopeless and numb as I am, there is still one hope that I am clinging to. I am holding fast to the absolute ability of God. This is not over, even though I have already made up my mind that it is."