I’ve mentioned in a couple posts before that he and I met six years ago, that night of fireworks on the back porch. The amount of life that the both of us have lived since then is monumental.
I had six years of crazy relationships, drugs, rock bottom, climbing back to the surface, barely able to make it out, more crazy relationships, and a lot of thinking about him. Comparing every person I dated to him, never feeling like my love life was how it was supposed to be. Oh, and there were of course a couple times he and I tried to be together, but the timing wasn’t right, and it just wasn’t our turn to be together in life’s grand scheme.
He began a career in the military, raised a son, went on a deployment, got married, and had, of course, those beautiful attempts at a relationship with me.
Both of us went in completely differnt directions, but no matter where we went, we always felt the pull of that invisible thread, knowing that we would get our time eventually.
I remember writing a lot of journaling about him. About what his love taught me, what it brought out in me, and how I knew I was destined to be with him. I would journal about how my boyfriend was good and all, but he wasn’t him.
He has been a part of many a deep conversation with most of my closest friends and family, and anyone who had ever seen us together. His friends all concurred that we should have been together the whole time. We just made sense to them. I would tell anyone who doubted him or questioned his motives that I wasn’t mad at him, I didn’t know how to be mad at him.
Sometimes life gets in the way. Sometimes there are meant to be other journies in life, places and feelings and sensations to be experienced that are in a completely opposite direction than that of your destiny. If you trust in the power of the universe, everything will work out how it is supposed to, and that eternity you spent waiting for it it happen will feel like a tiny moment, nothing even significant.
Moonlight and Mayhem 