Have you ever seen the new, re-created movie The Great Gatsby? I decided one Friday night to take myself on a date (cheesy, I know) for coffee and a movie, the most perfect combination ever. I decided to watch The Great Gatsby, and I don't regret it. That movie was the best movie I have seen in a cinema and captivated my heart from start to finish. Prior to watching it, I thought it was going to be a movie far away from genuine human emotion or experience, but I was stunned with how much I actually related to it and felt with the protagonist, Gatsby. For those of you who haven't seen it, I won't go into details. I will just say that Gatsby is truly, madly and deeply in love with a girl named Daisy. I must admit, at the end I cried because it turns out that, unlike most love stories, love didn't win in this particular one.
It made me think a lot later on that night and it made me miss my first love terribly. Maybe I moved to Wellington because of him? Maybe I made sure I was too busy trying to convince myself and everyone else that I moved here for myself so I didn't have to face the reality that it was a gaping lie? Maybe. But definitely, like Gatsby, I am trying to hold onto the past and consequently putting too much hope in the illusion that what is lost can be gained again. I am the undoing of myself.
When I was on the plane returning to Wellington two and a half weeks ago from Auckland, it was a grey day and my heart was sad to leave Auckland. For all I knew, I was flying back to a tainted city, a place of heartbreak, a place where everything around me reminds me that I have lost. Ever since I arrived here, when I walk out of my apartment, I get nervous. I'm scared I will see him, with or without his girlfriend, and I'm scared about how I will react. I make sure I look nice every time I set out in hopes that I will see him, but every time I go home a pang of sadness weighs me down because I didn't. I look at his picture almost everyday so that I don't forget what he looks like. I have been wondering whether or not it is terribly romantic or terribly creepy to wait outside his work for the chance that I might just see his warm face again. I dream about him constantly and have had sleepless nights thinking about him, what was and what could have been. Knowing all the while that his girlfriend gets to spend everyday with him is difficult for me. It doesn't bother me much that they live together or even that they make love to each other. What makes it unbearable at times is knowing that he is holding her at night when I would give everything I own away for that opportunity again.
This is the longest period of time that we haven't seen or talked to each other. I realized one night ago that it has been almost 8 months since my heart broke finding out that he was in a relationship. 8 months. For 8 months I have carried this painful truth in my heart. And it is 2 months from the day which marks the time we spent a weekend together, the weekend I fell in love with him. 5 more months and a bit and it will mark the first time I met him, 2 years ago. Time flies, don't it?
Oh, how God knows how much I miss him, and long for him, and love him. How many prayers has He heard of me trying to bribe Him, pleading that I would give anything, even my dreams and my future husband that He has for me, if only He would give me back my lost love. I am still convinced that no girl could ever love him more than I do, but I know there is nothing I can do anymore, and the powerlessness I feel is defeating me.
If I think about things like this too much, I start getting anxious. But it is one of those days where the past seems sadder than it usually does. It seems like I can go down many roads in life to avoid those consuming thoughts, but in the end, it always leads me back to him.
Currently listening to: Snow Patrol - You Could Be Happy
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