‘Everything happens for a reason.’ That statement is my moto in life, and when it is put under jeopardy, I start to wonder if it’s actually as true as I used to think it was.
Sometimes things happen just the way they are. We have no control over them or any say about the result, but sometimes things happen and you can’t help but question why? What was the point of it? Sitting here not being able to do anything about it is hard, really hard. Staying positive is obviously the key but I can’t help but associate how I would like things to turn out as the positive motivation. I can’t help but hope that one day a certain person realises how they truly feel.
I realise that things are easier now though; when it isn’t such a struggle to actually deal with the bad stuff that happens and getting on with life is a lot simpler than it used to be. Somehow though, I thought the rest of my life was to be spent with him. Somehow I thought that he cared enough to see beyond the defensive front and actually love me for just me. Too many times have I heard the words ‘I just want to be friends’ now.
Something was different with him; something that blew my mind. Everyone saw it… Everyone knew there was, and is, something different between us. Never have I felt more at home with him, like I actually belonged somewhere and like things were really meant to be. And this is just it. I tell myself that we just weren’t meant to be to cope with the heartache, but somewhere deep inside, a piece of me still doesn’t believe that for one little second, and is still hoping for a tiny miracle to happen.
I know that there’s still something there and I know that I’m strong enough to fight for this now. And if I didn’t, I’d be a fool because I love him. Maybe the previous events did actually ‘happen for a reason’ – to realise how precious this is to me, to make me realise that I can’t keep pushing people away when I get in too deep. If we ever make it through this, it’ll be my stupid mistakes which made us, and which made me.