Well, it's been freakin' 27 years and the way I reckon it should be hasn't happened. The way I thought it worked was, you grow up, you make friends and then one day, some really nice, decent, intelligent person bumps into you on a street and you realise that your whole life led up to him anyway. He'd get you, you'd get him, you'd have fun together, and one day, he'd ask you to marry him.
You buy a house, you have children with him and your life would entail seeing your children grow up, making sure they become good people, having a laugh with him and growing old together. You'd start bickering and fighting of course, you'd even resent him sometimes and need your time outs from each other...you'd seek comfort in your work and your friends. But at the end of the day, you and he have built a home together, the two of you would be what your children see as 'home'. At the end of the day, you'd see him through to the end and so will he. That's how it's supposed to be. It's how I've been raised to believe it will be.
You're supposed to have one big love. Well, at least, I am. And I'm supposed to have met him by now. It was in the plan. I was supposed to know when I met him.
But then I met you. And you were kind and decent, smart, you made me laugh and, you were my friend. And I thought, this would be easy...if I knew, then you'd know too. We'd know that our lives led up to one another. We were supposed to fall in love. Have a laugh together. And one day, you would've married me and there was this bright beautiful future that we were supposed to have together. Yeah, that would've been nice.
Anyway, you didn't love me back. You couldn't. Why? Your life didn't lead you up to me. It wasn't fated. It was simple. How I knew was that when you looked into my eyes, you looked past me. At someone else, who would be waiting for you. You didn't love me. It was simple and cruel of course. How could the person I was meant to be with not love me? I wasn't prepared for that. It was supposed to be easy.
So what now? It's been awhile...I ran away when I knew fate had dealt me a cruel hand. My gripe is, I didn't even believe in The One. I thought there'd be a few...THREE at least! But since you, I've been waiting around. I've been waiting for someone whom my life really led up to. But yet another night of waiting around ensues and I've lost what little hope I had left in me to keep waiting. So I don't hope anymore. And I try not to be bitter because of you. I try to imagine you happy and I try to be the bigger person to be happy for you. And sometimes, when I hear or see you laugh, I genuinely can be happy for you.
And to answer the question of how you get over the one person whom you thought would finally make you whole? Well, you don't really. You never really get over that person. But what you can do is move past them. There's a sort of joyous numb you feel when you wake up one day and they aren't the first thing you think about. It takes time of course, it takes other people too. People who act as distractions. People who make you happy in other ways. A pet maybe.A dog you love so unconditionally and irrevocably because she loves you unquestionably and makes you laugh again.
You work toward becoming the person you want to be. You travel and you watch the way the world works. You wish happiness on others. You live out of yourself because the person inside has been so sad it's best if you kept her away for awhile. But you live. You be free. You start to breath again. And after awhile, you're sort of okay.
But that's just me. I've stopped waiting. He will come if he's meant to come along...that next person. And if not, I think it's okay to be the way that I am. I am less whole, less hopeful, less of what I thought I would be, but I am also here. And that's something you know, that I'm still here.
You're supposed to have one big love. Well, at least, I am. And I'm supposed to have met him by now. It was in the plan. I was supposed to know when I met him.
But then I met you. And you were kind and decent, smart, you made me laugh and, you were my friend. And I thought, this would be easy...if I knew, then you'd know too. We'd know that our lives led up to one another. We were supposed to fall in love. Have a laugh together. And one day, you would've married me and there was this bright beautiful future that we were supposed to have together. Yeah, that would've been nice.
Anyway, you didn't love me back. You couldn't. Why? Your life didn't lead you up to me. It wasn't fated. It was simple. How I knew was that when you looked into my eyes, you looked past me. At someone else, who would be waiting for you. You didn't love me. It was simple and cruel of course. How could the person I was meant to be with not love me? I wasn't prepared for that. It was supposed to be easy.
So what now? It's been awhile...I ran away when I knew fate had dealt me a cruel hand. My gripe is, I didn't even believe in The One. I thought there'd be a few...THREE at least! But since you, I've been waiting around. I've been waiting for someone whom my life really led up to. But yet another night of waiting around ensues and I've lost what little hope I had left in me to keep waiting. So I don't hope anymore. And I try not to be bitter because of you. I try to imagine you happy and I try to be the bigger person to be happy for you. And sometimes, when I hear or see you laugh, I genuinely can be happy for you.
And to answer the question of how you get over the one person whom you thought would finally make you whole? Well, you don't really. You never really get over that person. But what you can do is move past them. There's a sort of joyous numb you feel when you wake up one day and they aren't the first thing you think about. It takes time of course, it takes other people too. People who act as distractions. People who make you happy in other ways. A pet maybe.A dog you love so unconditionally and irrevocably because she loves you unquestionably and makes you laugh again.
You work toward becoming the person you want to be. You travel and you watch the way the world works. You wish happiness on others. You live out of yourself because the person inside has been so sad it's best if you kept her away for awhile. But you live. You be free. You start to breath again. And after awhile, you're sort of okay.
But that's just me. I've stopped waiting. He will come if he's meant to come along...that next person. And if not, I think it's okay to be the way that I am. I am less whole, less hopeful, less of what I thought I would be, but I am also here. And that's something you know, that I'm still here.
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