One of the things I admire, respect, and love about him is his devotion to his family. And let me tell you, what I know of his family...well, I can see why. They are the best of the best. And that is why he moved out...his family needed him.
I cried. I raged. I bitched at the gods that I hold holy. I simmered. I fell apart. I vented. I moved my stuff into his old room. I figured things out...sort of.
But the most important thing of all had been avoided...talking to him. You'd have to understand my esteem issues to know my thought process. Fortunately for me, he does. He gets me like no one else. As I simmered and was prepared for him to say "Goodbye", I finally worked up the nerve to confront him and his words to me? "This is not goodbye!" And he repeated it as often as I needed him to until I finally started to believe it. See, in the two years that we've been friends, we NEVER say "Goodbye". It is always "See you later." But my mind jumps to the worst...like always. We hugged. I cried. He held on when I was ready to let go and he promised me that this would all work out. We'd be okay. Not "You'll be okay." Not "I'll be okay," but "We'll be okay."
|© Sitha Suppalertpis|
I'm discovering that I am a survivor. I know it might not seem like much to you, but it is everything to me...it means I am stronger than I ever thought.
And loving someone means letting them go so they can deal with what they need to deal with. It's being the rock for the one who has been a rock for you all this time. It's trusting that he will walk through his fire and come through it stronger than ever.
We will survive this. We will thrive because of this. This will only make us stronger people and better friends. When I tell you that he is the best part of my life, I'm not exaggerating by any means.