Old flame

There's nothing quite so dangerous as the lure of what could have been. Nothing quite so attractive to our minds as missed opportunities, missed roads. The disappearance of them , the longing for them breathes new life into them, moulds the edges, brightens the darkness and transforms memories into unrealisitically beautiful pieces of art.

Im not sure why the entrance of an old flame into my life for 2 weeks had the impact that it did. An online flirtation, the idea of something new and exciting and yet familiar...I dont know. What I can't wrap my head around is why I felt so broken-hearted and lost at its sudden end. I left him 10 years ago when I felt it had died. I never connected with him then. Not truly. There was no "marriage of true minds". So we parted ways and went about our lives, different countries, different partners, different worlds.

And then he contacts me out of the blue...a pointless point on a random afternoon. And we started chatting and it was different. More honest. More fun. More exciting. And for some reason, I was emotionally raw and open and up for it. For some reason I allowed this flirtation to continue, curious as to where its natural conclusion would be. Safe in the knowledge that nothing could ever come of it. Safe in the geographical light years between us. It was exhilirating. It was exciting to be constantly wanted, to be in heat, to be sexually charged. To be desired. Oh, to be passionately desired.

For 2 weeks I hardly slept, I hardly worked. Breathless and excited. Horny. Mixed with guilt. Excitement. Guilt. Excitement. Guilt. Until one evening after a particularly late conversation I suddenly realized why it never worked. I realized how pointless these conversations were. Why I could never be with him. Why I didnt need to be with him. Why where I was now was exactly where I needed to be. Why I appreciated what I had now. Why I cherished what I had now. Why I genuinely loved what I had now. And in a flash, I just pulled back, determined to not allow him back in.

And yet, when the inevitable goodbye came a few days later, I felt broken. I cried. Inexplicably, I sobbed uncontrollably. I felt emptied. Over what? Over a lost memory? Over a lost flame that was never mine to begin with? I cried over the lost drama of heightened emotions. Over the lost exhiliration of heightened passion. But mostly I think, over the lost version of me. A more carefree me. A more exciting me. A more authentic me. Someone who used to be true to myself. Someone who didnt need to be reminded that if you dont want to do something, just dont. Someone who used to stand up for myself. A me not bogged down by ideas of obligation and duty to the point of complete submission. And If im honest, maybe I cried a little over him too.

I didnt want our goodbye to be permanent, I didnt want him to disappear completely from my life. I wanted to remain friends, aquaintances, whatever. I thought that with time, the novelty would have dissipated leaving what could have been a good friendship. The drama and finality of a permanent goodbye, somehow bottled up the intensity and froze it into time, leaving something that would forever be a fantasy. I think I mourned the loss of a kindred spirit and friend. Because at the end of the day, Its hard to care that much for someone and have them completely disappear from your life.

All of this has really taught me something. The reason that I have felt so alone and empty for so long, is that I have abandoned myself in my quest to make those around me happy. I have been so focussed on people pleasing that I forgot my very own thoughts and opinions, so merged have I become with my environment. I no longer seek thrills and excitement. I no longer pursue the simple things that make each of us who we are. I am no longer living, my zest and passion has ceased to the detriment of myself as well as those around me as I have refused to deal with pain I should have faced years ago. And in all of this, all I do is keep on trying to fill the gaping void in all the wrong ways.

I have so long been searching for someone else to understand me and connect with me, not realizing that I have stopped connecting with myself. And maybe in these last 2 weeks I imagined a connection that was not there, so desperate was I for real human understanding beyond the farce of my daily superficial interactions.

Old flames. They are useful. They have a way of showing you how far you have come. They have a way of showing you what your values are. How lucky you are to have what you have. How much the people around you really mean. What should and shouldnt be discarded. That is their purpose, to remind you of who you are, to be the mirror that reflects deep into your soul in a way that your own introspection muddied by influences around you cannot. Its an unrealistic useless beautiful piece of art that has one power and one beauty. The true beauty of an old flame is that it can reignite you.