3 Years Ago And Some Thoughts On Regret

Three years ago I was falling in love.  Being swept off my feet by a guy I never would have expected to end up with.  It was all so beautifully unexpected because neither one of us was looking for anything resembling a relationship when we met but things just clicked too much for either of us to stop.  I'll never forget the first few months of that relationship--staying up all night eating cold pizza and drinking root beer and talking about everything, flipping my TV back and forth between football and Dancing With the Stars on Monday nights, him playing our song and dancing at his apartment . . . it was wonderful.  I don't think I could have imagined a better start to anything; it was exactly what I wanted, even if I didn't know I wanted it, even if before I'd never really imagined myself spending the rest of my life with anyone.  I fell for him on our first date, lying in his arms in a raft under the stars in the middle of a lake.

But three years ago, I was sick, too.

The thing is, when I look back over the past year, over the time that he and I have been apart and the time I've spent getting better, I feel nearly nothing but pride.  Because I know--I know--that I have accomplished something tremendous.  I've talked about it time and time again, and I'm sure I'll talk about it more in the future, because it's true.  I know exactly how far I've come and exactly how much better I am.  I'm aware of it every single day.  And I am grateful for it every single day, even on less than awesome days.

I've worked hard to get to where I am now, and I like my life.  And I really want to be able to look back and say that if all I got out of that relationship was this, then that's fine.  That's enough.  That whatever happens after that is just icing on the cake.

But I just can't think like that.  Not now, anyway.

Because sometimes when I think about what I've accomplished, it just doesn't feel as good as it should.  I'll never, ever think that it was pointless, because it wasn't.  I wouldn't trade being mentally healthy for anything.  I needed to get better, regardless of what was going on in my life otherwise.  That wasn't a maybe, that was a for sure.

But at the end of the day, no amount of being better can change the fact that I spent a pretty big chunk of time treating an amazing person who loved me and was trying to help me like absolute dirt, and that guilt and regret still overwhelms me sometimes.  Sometimes I honestly can't believe how awful I was, and it makes me feel terrible.  So getting better wasn't pointless by any means, but there are moments when it seems like it was too little, too late, at least in this one respect.  Because, aside from my own health, the biggest and most significant thing the bipolar crap cost me was that relationship.

I feel like I've fixed almost everything else.  My relationship with my family is fine (aside from normal family stuff, of course), my relationship with Jerbs is good, and I've reconnected with people from college who I cut out of my life when I was sick.  My financial situation is improving and I am slowly but surely learning how to manage my money correctly.  I'm taking baby steps towards physical health (and I'm fine with that . . . better small steps than no steps, right?).

I would just love to be forgiven.  I would love for him to see that I really am better and that the issues I used to have were genuinely not me; I would love for him to know how absolutely horrible I feel for every terrible thing I did and said.  I would love--really, really love-- for him to know this me.  I would love a second chance and a clean slate.  And I'm better enough now that I could have a second chance and make it work.

But, I can't change the past.  I wish I could.  So for now, I am just going to hope that this person eventually finds his way to forgiveness and that he still has feelings for me.

These are the thoughts that I'm putting out into the universe tonight.  And hopefully whatever powers are out there--God or stars or vortices or whatever--see fit to return them to me in a good way.

I Wish . . .

A blogger I follow was doing a kind of make a wish thing since it's 11-11.*  I thought I'd follow suit, because I love making wishes!**

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I wish for happiness and contentment within my own life.

I wish for another chance with Corey, or for the ability to put him behind me and move on.

I wish for the inspiration to keep writing and to finish my grad school application.

I wish for a happy holiday season for myself and my loved ones and for everyone else out there.

I wish to be at peace with myself: with my past, with my present, with my situation.
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*Yes, I know it's also Veteran's Day.  I have mixed feelings about Veteran's Day--or more specifically, how people react to it.  But I will say that while I oppose the wars we are currently in, I do respect and support the troops who are fighting them, and I know that their sacrifices are tremendous.

**I also know that just wishing for things isn't going to make them happen, and that if I want any of the things on that list, I have to work for them.  But I also feel like putting those wishes out there into the universe never hurts.