Leap of Faith

In a spirit of writing honestly and unapologetically, there is a guy I am undoubtedly hung up on. It is not uncommon to hear that relationships are all about timing. To a point, I cannot argue with that. Part of me cannot help but wonder “Maybe that will finally be our time. Maybe that will be when timing is on our side.” Most of me knows waiting around gets you nowhere. It just hurts you. It closes you off to other opportunities.

I am all about second chances though. But, I can’t place an ad in his local paper in all caps advertising “SECOND CHANCE AVAILABLE HERE.” It is something he has to want too. No matter how much it hurts to see him with another girl while I’m still hopelessly standing on home plate.

If our time ever comes. Who is going to jump first? I need to know 100% he is all in; ready to play the next inning. I know I will be.

I keep flashing back to that night, that last time we saw each other. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since that day. Replaying it like Full House reruns in my head. Just like him, that night was unforgettable. Unforgettable and unexpected. It gave me answers to old questions, while simultaneously writing a list of new questions. The answers given to me felt right. Felt like things were finally coming full circle. Yet those words haven’t been repeated or revisited since that day.

Maybe I am waiting for a sign from the universe. Maybe I am still too scared to jump like a little kid learning to swim underwater for the first time. Maybe I am hoping one day he will jump without any hesitation. But who knows, maybe he waited for me to do the same and I never did.

I am not going to lie, after we saw each other that night, I thought we had a fighting chance. I thought the delay between the bottom of the first and the top of the second was finally over. You see I never stopped wanting him. I still haven’t. I truly have never met someone I get along with so well. I have tried my hardest to get over him with many unsuccessful attempts in tow. Maybe I just don’t want to. If you could hear my thoughts you would hear a constant echo of his name. If you could read my mind it would be a space graffitied with his name. This is not the type of graffiti that is easily painted over and left unnoticed to the naked eye.

He is pitching to a different home plate again. Don’t get me wrong, I want him to be happy. Who am I to wish someone otherwise?

I used to think I needed to take a leap of faith towards him. Express to him all my thoughts bottled up inside. Lay it all out on the table like betting all in during a game of black jack. Someone can’t act on feelings if they don’t know they exist. Now I’m starting to think maybe I need to take that leap of faith in the other direction. Dive into the world of moving on, getting over, and letting go. Free myself from the jail located in the of capital heartbreak USA. If I do not give myself permission to heal, I never will. I have no doubt he will live on in my words forever. But it might be time I take away the square footage he is renting in my heart. End his lease and evict what doesn’t feel at home anymore.

There are no guarantees in life. Nothing will solidify a second change will knock on our doors. Nothing will guarantee we will both want it. No flashing neon sign saying jump now. A notification won’t pop up on my phone telling me exactly what to do. No guarantees he and I will ever be on the same page again. There is a time for hope and a time for letting go. Two directions for which I must eventually choose one. Right now I am frozen unable to divulge down a road following my ultimate choice. Each outcome is unknown. That’s terrifying alone. I’m stuck at the enter of a crossroads. Physically and mentally I cannot make a choice. For now maybe I will blame it on my indecisiveness. That might just be an excuse but it’s an excuse I’m willing to live with.

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Gab as of 6/12/17

I have become too wrapped up in writing something beautiful, I don’t just write what is happening. I become obsessed with creating words that people might quote and write down in their journals. When maybe I should simply write about life. Try to not make every heartache and misfortune sound like gold.

Writing a life update is something I have never used this space for. I guess I have always figured those who are active in my life are those who need to know it’s most intimate details. They know all the important stuff and all the little things. Also, I don’t understand why people would just want to read about my day to day life. Could I really be that interesting? Then again, maybe what we all need is a peer we can relate to.

My mind has been moving a lot lately and I want to try something new. I have a lot of content in the works, yet it’s not quite ready to be shared. Until then, I am going to give you an update on my life. Just a little bit of what’s up with Gab.

Like I said, I always find it uncomfortable to write a “life update” because I do not believe people want to read about my daily life. If you are that person I suggest you stop reading here. If not, thanks for sticking it out over the next paragraphs.


When I give people writing advice, I always say, “Write what you know.” Honestly, who do you know better than yourself. My next words will be the result of me taking my own advice.


You might be wondering why the date in the title is 6/12/17 when clearly our calendar now plants us in the month of September. June was three months ago. Gab you know time travel isn’t real. It just so happens that on June 12, 2017 I took the LSAT. If you are unsure what that is, it’s an evil little (big) thing required to apply to Law School; the dreaded Law School Admissions Test. The single handed worst part of applying to law school. Trust me my friends, no one finds it fun. No one finds it easy.

I was probably about 16 when the idea of being a lawyer floated around in my brain. At the start of college in the Fall of 2011, that was the goal. Get my undergrad in Political Science and jump right into Law School four years later. I’ll save you the details, but that didn’t happen. Great, now that we have that established…why now?

Last week while waitressing, I had an out of town customer truly curious about me. Who am I? What do I do? What do I want? I gave him my basic summarized life story. You know, high school, college, professional career…the boring stuff. I never caught this man’s first name but I wish I would have so I could thank him by name. You’re probably wondering what I need to thank him for? Even though I told him about myself with my normal bubbly amount of enthusiasm he could tell there was a slight undertone of unhappiness. He could tell I wanted more. He then asked me a simple question, “When you were 18, a freshman just beginning college, what did you picture yourself doing?” My response, “Law school.”

As I said it aloud, a concrete stillness overcame me. This man was not looking for a BS answer. He wanted the cold honest truth. The moment I spoke those words I realized I am doing the right thing. Prior to that moment so many times my thoughts echoed uncertainty if following my lost dream of law school was right. Out of nowhere this stranger solidified it for me. This is what I want to thank him for. He didn’t know me. He didn’t know I was searching for a sign. God placed him in my life that night to show me he works in mysterious ways. He presents himself after we’ve been asking to do so but not in the way we request. He shows up in the way we didn’t know we needed him.

I sit writing this post on the brink of submitting my first law school application. I sip on a cup of slightly bitter lukewarm coffee with a new found confidence. Am I currently working a job that doesn’t fulfill me? Yes. Am I mending a mosaic broken heart? Yes. Am I struggling with a sense of independence because I don’t have an apartment to call my own? Yes. Do I know I am on my way to where life is supposed to take me? Absolutely. And, my friends, that is the best part. That is what keeps me moving forward.

IMG_0118This is a picture my mom insisted taking of me as I left to take my LSAT at Penn State. I wore that Penn State shirt for good luck because it is my first choice law school. At the time I was slightly annoyed but humored my mom as she snapped my picture. Now I’m so glad she did. I feel as though it represents the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

I vividly remember the day I signed up for the LSAT in the middle of my work day. I stopped what I was doing and registered. At the time I was angry. Angry at a boy. It sounds silly as I write it but, it’s true. Angry at a situation I had little control over. I was craving something I had complete control over. Other factors contributed to my decision but that anger was the final straw. I am still searching for closure over that anger. However, one silver lining I have is that it forced me to push myself. Push myself towards step one of a goal. Only I have control over submitting my applications. Only I have control over deciding what school to attend. Only I have control over all of the effort I put forth in law school. That is something no one can take away from me.


If you made it this far in my post, you’ve made it to the end. Here is the part where I say thank you. Every time I share a post I conclude with – as always, thank you for reading. That is exactly how I will conclude this. It means the world to me that you take the time out of your life to read about mine.

XOXO – Gabriella (as of 6/12/17)

The Art of Letting Go

I highly suggest you listen to John Mayer’s “Moving On and Getting Over” while reading this post. It sums up in song the words I am about to share with you.

Lately I have become the queen of Spotify playlists. One for heartbreak, one for the closet country music fan within me, one for crushing too hard on that oh so cute boy, one for hating everything about men, one full of my favorite Disney songs, and one that has all of my summer jams in one place. Just a whole lot of music that makes my ears happy. My playlist titled “Yup” is composed of the songs I have gravitated to the most lately. Created for every brokenhearted girl out there. My best friend and I came up with this title. It is a bit odd, I know. A single syllable word to represent so much more. This title came to be because when you listen to each song on the playlist, each individual lyric illustrates every detail of the heartbreak you are feeling, leading you to just say “yup”. Yup, this artist, with these lyrics, put into words what I cannot.

How is it a person we have never encountered manages to perfectly illustrate our exact feelings? They tell the stories of our heartbreak and love like they are living our life with us. Yet each artist does so in a way true to themselves. This forced the gears in my head to spin. If you haven’t noticed from my recent writing, I am dealing with a dose of heartache myself. Every part of me wants this person. Every part of him wants another person. Every other part of me wants to learn to let him go. My gears then paused on the thought of just that, the art of letting go. Much easier said than done. Holy crap, it’s hard. You watch a person walk away from you, when all you want is to reel them back in. Cast a line into their waters hoping they will take to the bait. The odds of this occurring is unpredictable. Yet you will do anything to keep them around.

We all move on differently. We all let go differently. There is no possible way every human lets go in the exact same way. Me, I write about it. Instead of talking to him, I write about him. This helps me get my thoughts out. Gather them, control them, and decipher what is truly important for me to share. Part of me has come to the realization this is not fully fair to him. But, when a writer falls for someone, that person will live on forever in their words. Still I have found myself drowning in words I have never said to him. Why is it I am willing to share them with strangers but not directly with him? They become embedded into the internet and I seem to be content with that.

My only conclusion is, this is how I begin to move on. Once I share my thoughts I cannot take them back. Even if only read by one other person, those words are no longer exclusive to me. Sharing is my way of acknowledging what happened and preparing to take the next step forward.

I will be the first to admit the slight hypocrisy behind blogging about my life. It’s easy to share on the internet compared to speaking directly to the person. I am still honest but, in a way, I hide behind a screen. It is a lot harder to see a person’s reaction to my blog compared to face to face.

I heard on the radio the other day, it should take you half the time a relationship lasted for you to get over it. Well, heck, I’m calling BS on that. There isn’t a calendar etched in stone with dates marked when you must be over a person. Step by step instructions are not published universally for us to follow. Although Dua Lipa’s rules are pretty darn helpful. No other person felt what you felt. No other person can define where that took you as a human being. We cannot sanction when you must fully move on. It is just one of those things you know, you feel it in your gut. You’ll start to creep less and less on their social media and your heart no longer skips a beat when you hear their name. Signs will start to pop up that you are healing.

We all let go in our own way. It is beautiful as is. It is an art form of it’s own because letting go means we are giving ourselves permission to heal. Giving yourself permission to do something is a form of self-care. Self-care is the best thing we can do. Don’t let anyone define your healing for you. You have every right to do that for yourself. Just because you watch an ex or an old friend move on first it does not mean you must do so too.

My own heart is on it’s healing path, still unsure if it should go left, right, take a u-turn or just stay idle for now. It has a hunch this person will be around for the long haul. It has a hunch more answers are on their way. In the meantime, I can tell you, my “Yup” playlist won’t be foreign to my headphones.

 

Ours Was Never Ours

Relationship status: Not ours

They didn’t date but he still broke her heart. Ours is a pronoun they never reached the status of. You plus me was an equation they never solved. There is a blank space after the equals sign.

She found herself in a relationship that wasn’t a relationship. He managed to break her heart without ever fully having it. She’s not so sure he realizes how easily he did this to her.

There was never a defined “we are.” They just carried on in their own world.

Hands were held. Inside jokes were made. Sweet kisses held true. Laugher was constant. Horrible bowling skills were witnessed. She had never felt so happy to simply be with someone. She was beginning to realize why nothing had never worked out with another person. The best part, they met by chance. It was like one of her favorite Taylor Swift lyrics, “The best people in life are free” was coming to life right in front of her. She spent a Monday night supporting a coworker and left with so much more. What came next she never expected.

She spent two months of her life feeling a way she had never felt before. She did so many uncharacteristic things just to see him. She broke her rules. She opened up her heart like a book that’d never been read before. Tore down walls that stood tall between the lines. She laid down her heart like playing cards. He didn’t bet on her. She left her comfort zone at the starting line. She ran away from it with her inhibitions in tow. In her mind she felt one way. She had a vision of them. Day dreams of the places they would go.

She learned she should have spoke her mind. She should have said what she wanted. She didn’t. That can’t be changed now. Nor does she regret it. Yet it will always linger in the depths of her mind. If she would have said something, what would have been different? What would be different now?

There was a he. There was a she. There was never a we. Never an ours. Somehow she still felt like there was everything and then some. Potential for so much more lingering waiting for its golden hour. More that they didn’t even know was possible. Crashing down and pulled away like the tide from the shore. Pulled away like a breakup yet there wasn’t a defined relationship.

He didn’t date her. Her is me. He’s the guy I’m forever hung up on. He was the last best thing I had. Now I am witnessing the puzzle pieces of a heart break first hand. They are slipping through my hands like quicksand with nothing to catch them. No safety net to collect them. I’ve tried to let go but I don’t know if I want to.

What I would give for one more taste of his lips to bring me back. I never doubted he liked me. I doubted what we both wanted.

I’m trying to find my healing path. How do you heal from something you don’t regret?

A new boy has caught my attention. One who is nothing like you. Maybe that’s what I need? I’m still unsure. Yet, your name lingers, pinned to a bulletin board in my mind. Always a what if. Wondering what we could be.

As so often in this world, perhaps timing is not on our side yet. It may never be. A mutual friend of ours said give it time. Give him time. How much time is the right amount of time? I’ll be the first to tell you I’m impatient.

It’s easy to say this is the first time I felt this way. For that, I say thank you to him. Thank you. He gave me a feeling I didn’t know was possible. He gave me a story of first encounters that I want to tell for the rest of my life.

If you’re reading this, thank you. You showed me a different side of me. A giddy girl happy to be by your side. I will always be grateful for that. With you, around you, I was overwhelmed in the best way. In a way I wish everyone gets to experience. The thing is, I was just falling in love with you. I wasn’t in love with you. I can only imagine how that would feel. I imagine overwhelming in a way words can’t describe. I want to show up for you. I want to stand on your balcony always cheering you on. Your biggest cheerleader, never leaving your side. You’re the first person I want to tell good news too. I want you to witness all of me. I may never get that chance and I suppose in the end I will have to be ok with that. Know I’ll always melt in the wake of your smile.

We said we’d be friends but it hurts me to see you with another girl. I don’t want to lose you. I’m holding on to something but unclear of what that is.

I’m tied together with a smile.

Ours was never a pronoun we belonged to, that’s not to say I don’t want to.

Oh but what if he is?

She said, “Maybe he’s not as special as you thought he was.”

I replied with, “Oh but what if he is?”

I want him to be. I need him to be.

Maybe I don’t want to believe it. Maybe it’s true. Maybe I’m right.

When you think someone is special. You think highly of them. You willingly put them on a pedestal. And, at times, unwilling. Even when they hurt you, they magically remain upright unharmed on that pedestal like a geek god carved into a stone statue.

Here I am finding myself haunted by this.

Maybe I need this to be true because it gives me peace of mind. It’s a way for me to prove to others he’s not he person they think he is. I don’t want to believe I would invest in someone who isn’t. Even though they hurt me. Hurt that I seem to be covering up. Hurt I am willing to ignore. Willing to let go.

Once proven to me there is a light behind his eyes. It’s not shining as bright anymore. At least not in my direction. I know it’s in there. Why did I lose it? It is hard to answer that question when it was a choice I had no control over.

I stand here damaged, yet willing to release that damage. Not wanting to give up on a person. Willing to hand out another chance like it’s extra change. Pull those coins out of my pocket and place them tightly in his hands, hoping he won’t throw it in a fountain to be forgotten about. Shove them in his front pockets to get warm. Hoping he’ll invest it. Invest it until it multiplies into something worth saving.

I see this unruly potential within this person. Their energy is unlike any I have encountered before. I see a boy who could be a rock in my world. A light unlike any other. Yet, I’m unsure if he knows that.

Maybe I’m romanticizing him. Maybe I’m speaking what I want to be true. I am a terrible liar though. I also don’t like to be wrong about people. My sense of reading people has always been strong. With this person in particular I read a special person that has walked into my life. A person I can’t let go of.

Unrequited Love: You Can’t Love Alone

It’s hard to ignore, “the heart wants what the heart wants.” It’s hard to let go of “follow your heart.” Especially if your mind is telling you otherwise. Screaming, “Girl run the other direction.” There are no blueprints for the right direction. No maps or instructions telling you what choice to make. Nothing guiding you. You’re left to your own devices; yourself and your intuition at play. I imagine illustrations of the head and the heart are similar to an angel and devil sitting on opposite shoulders. Neither one of them telling you the same thing. Simultaneously, neither one is entirely wrong. Which one do you listen to?

What aids you in that choice? Is picking one over the other truly the best course of action? Can’t there be a way to combine them? Put them in a room together until they get along.

I recently watched a video about unrequited love. A quick one minute and thirty seconds that popped up on my FB feed. I almost scrolled right past it. Something inside me said, “Gabriella I think you need to watch this one.” To be honest I scroll past most videos people share. (Hello, there’s a lot of them) I’m glad I felt compelled to press play on this particular one. Unrequited love seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life. It pops up ALL the time. More than I’d care to admit. Just when I thought I’d heard it all, the speaker in this video said something that resonated strongly with me. “You can’t sit there and love someone in isolation. That’s not love.” There it was, the slap in the face I needed to hear. A thought that had never crossed my mind until that moment. A thought I sadly wish would have before. A thought I think would have saved me heartache.

It the spirit of honesty, the speaker is right. Loving someone is not sitting alone in your bedroom creeping on their social media hoping they will sense you staring at their Instagram profile for the tenth time that day. Loving someone is not analyzing every word of every tweet wondering if one of them might be about you. It is not hiding behind social media likes. That is not saying you care, that just proves you know how to click or double tap. Loving someone is not laying in bed an entire Saturday crying because you don’t know what to say to them. Loving someone is not waiting idly for an opportunity to slip back into their life after they break up with someone. It’s not keeping their sweatshirt folded in your closet hoping you will have a reason to wear it again.

Loving someone is communication. It’s showing up to their house with a cup of coffee, after crying for two days straight, and saying “hey let’s talk about this.” Loving someone is showing up, being present in their life. Loving someone is verbally telling them “I care about you” even if the possibility of their reaction scares you to death. As one of my favorite authors says, “Don’t let fear drive the car.” Love is illustrating to them you want to be a constant in their life. Them a constant in yours. It is making truth to the promises you made them. Not ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Unrequited love has this whimsical romantic notion. Where does that get us? It sounds beautiful, like a fairy tale. That is the connotation we’ve given it. Yet, it is one person seeking the affection of another who does not give a damn about them. I will admit I have always thought it oh so romantic. I am starting to change my tune. How long can a person go on “loving” someone without telling them? It breaks you down. It beats you up. It is like your own personal form of bullying. Let me tell you, it sucks. We all deserve the love that we so freely give to others. You may love them, but you must love yourself first. Not being honest with them or yourself is the opposite of that.

Listen to your heart, but don’t beat it up. Do not give it bruises that take an eternity to heal. It is difficult to be torn between letting them go and fighting for what you want. There is no black or white decision in that scenario. It is one extra large grey area. I usually love the color grey but not in this case.

Our minds spin in circles. What do you listen to, your heart, your head, your thoughts, your favorite romantic comedy, your emotions, your mom, your friends, a buzzfeed article, your coworkers, the lyrics to your favorite song? The possibilities are endless. I believe in time our souls know how to heal. The real challenge is silencing your mind.

A re-evaluation of this whole “unrequited love” thing needs to happen. Giving it control is an option we should no longer entertain. It might not happen overnight.

I hope one day we all find the courage to give unrequited love a swift kick in the ass. We all know it needs it.

 

Missed Opportunities 

Every kiss of yours I don’t get is a kiss I will miss.

Every hug of yours I don’t get is a hug I will miss.

Every smile of yours I don’t witness is a smile I will miss.

Every story of yours I don’t hear is a story I will miss.

Every moment of yours I don’t witness is a moment I will miss.

Every laugh of yours I don’t hear is a laugh I will miss.

Every tear of yours I don’t wipe away is a tear I will miss.

Every idea of yours I don’t hear is an idea I will miss.

Every touch of yours I don’t get is a touch I will miss.

Everything about you is everything I will miss.

Translation: I miss you.