Lost Love
We all have friends in life, and I guess we have enemies as well. I don't think that I have ever met anyone who has purposely meant to do me harm, but I know such people exist. I know that some of you have encountered people who, for whatever reason, decided they didn't like you and, worse, decided to make your life a living hell.
Now, I can remember feeling that an ex-girlfriend or two betrayed me, but maybe that's different. Breaking up a relationship, whether it be three months or years in duration, is like jambalaya — everything gets so mixed up in that stew that it's as impossible to sort out the shrimp from the chicken as it is to differentiate the sense of loss from the need to move on.
So, yes, I may have harboured some angst towards lost loves, but I was also part of that scene. I never blame the lady in question. It's always my fault. Even if she makes it abundantly clear that she no longer wants anything to do with me, well, isn't that my fault too? I mean I must have failed to satisfy her in some way. OK, I find it hard to imagine that, but I guess it could happen.
Lost loves should never be gruesome, never dressed in zombie clothes. In fact, rediscovering a lost love can be exhilarating, as long as one of you isn't carrying an axe to grind or a chainsaw in the trunk of the car.
Reigniting something that was once beautiful and fun is not impossible. It just requires a certain amount of trust. Otherwise, both of you will be sure to repeat the same disaster that knocked on the front door the first time around.
We all have friends in life, and I guess we have enemies as well. I don't think that I have ever met anyone who has purposely meant to do me harm, but I know such people exist. I know that some of you have encountered people who, for whatever reason, decided they didn't like you and, worse, decided to make your life a living hell.
Now, I can remember feeling that an ex-girlfriend or two betrayed me, but maybe that's different. Breaking up a relationship, whether it be three months or years in duration, is like jambalaya — everything gets so mixed up in that stew that it's as impossible to sort out the shrimp from the chicken as it is to differentiate the sense of loss from the need to move on.
So, yes, I may have harboured some angst towards lost loves, but I was also part of that scene. I never blame the lady in question. It's always my fault. Even if she makes it abundantly clear that she no longer wants anything to do with me, well, isn't that my fault too? I mean I must have failed to satisfy her in some way. OK, I find it hard to imagine that, but I guess it could happen.
Lost loves should never be gruesome, never dressed in zombie clothes. In fact, rediscovering a lost love can be exhilarating, as long as one of you isn't carrying an axe to grind or a chainsaw in the trunk of the car.
Reigniting something that was once beautiful and fun is not impossible. It just requires a certain amount of trust. Otherwise, both of you will be sure to repeat the same disaster that knocked on the front door the first time around.
