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True closure, in the very sense of the word, can and will only ever be achieved once we know the other person realises what they have lost in losing us.
Too long have people strived to be something they think they should be. Climbing every mountain, scaling every hurdle to beat all the rest. This could mean anything superficial - from getting a new hair cut, outfitting your closet with catwalk trends - but the reasons for trying to better ourselves this way root much, much deeper.
In such a relationship, I found myself permanently on the up-beat. I was mentally exhausted trying to be on the ball and probably attempting to think about every single word I spoke before I spoke it. I wanted the image of me to be flawless. I would not accept being faulted on anything from my conversation to my wardrobe.
Beneath it all boiled insecurity. Not truly believing that I was worthy to be with this person made me attempt to make myself someone worthy. I, who have always praised the confident, and preached that there is no such thing as a romantic hierarchy in the dating world, was quielty pushing my way up to the top.
I had not always been so obsessed with self-image. In the days when I first met the other, I cannot even recall having thoughts about what I looked like. I was completely and utterly carefree, and loving life for the hands it dealt me. I look back on myself then, and crave to be that way again. Everything was so much more easy - this, of course, included navigating my love life.
With falling in love, however, come the complexities of self-worth and belief. I felt neither. On a few occasions in the recent past, I did finally manage to just be myself. I think it all started when he turned up to a party unannounced and unexpected, and it was far too late for me to rush home and pick myself an outfit or fix my hair. There I was, hair matted with beer and messy from too much dancing - for that I blame the buzz for dance music I got just after I returned from Ibiza. The outfit - a black top and denim skirt, and trainers. Hardly dressy. Hardly something that could turn heads. And, feeling like I had nothing really left to lose, I finally opened up. I flirted, I giggled and played, and it was one of the best evenings we've had together. He looked at me differently, that night.
But, as they say, all good things come to an end. The whirlwind romance was shortlived. Quickly, the little boy went back to his old ways, and with that I retreated back into my shell. I felt exposed and vulnerable.
I look at the past sixth months of my life, bookmarked in my mind by this story of burning, young love, and see things for what they really are. I hope that, preferably in the next few months, he will realise what he had in me, and what he lost in us. It was sincerely something that was one of a kind. When that day comes, I'll be satisfied.
I state that nobody should ever let themselves be told they can't have what they want.
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