I wish I could say I regretted something but I can’t.
In 2023, I left the comforts and security of having a relationship and a place to call home. Please ✋… hold the round of applause until the end.
It was the hardest decision of my life, but also the easiest. Because I felt like I was in an out-of-control car, and I needed to jump out. That was easy. But the person I loved was also in the car. That was hard.
I jumped because I knew that he’d jump and he’d be okay too. I just didn’t know if he’d jump in my direction or not. He didn’t.
We both rolled out onto the grass—tired, beaten up, bruised—and stood on different sides of some lush green metaphorical meadow. I started walking straight to the hospital because I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t look back because I knew he’d get to the hospital eventually. And I hoped he’d come find me. But he just watched me, he hoped I’d turn back, and when I didn’t, he went to a different hospital.
I bailed on him because I needed to put on my own mask first, so that I was able to come back to him to help with his.
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I wasn’t emotionally mature/aware enough to repair the relationship at that time. So I ran.
That’s when I became a house-sittin', pet-mindin', nomad. A situation I definitely wouldn't have predicted I’d be in at 36. I thought I’d have kids with him. I thought we were going to build a life together. Alas, I’m childless and essentially living out of my car. Which, on paper, seems awfully tragic.
But I don’t believe it is. I don’t think there’s anything tragic about my unconventional lifestyle. There’s a certain tragedy to how my love story ends, but not my life. I’m actually very happy. My life is full of beautiful connections with people, I’m adventuring every which way, I carry my job around with me in my backpack, and I’m physically the strongest and fittest I've ever felt.
"Statistically speaking, a "normal person" is physically unhealthy, emotionally anxious/depressed, socially lonely, and financially in debt. Fuck being normal."
Mark Manson
The real matter I want to celebrate today, though, is my personal growth. My newfound understanding of myself, which by default has given me a whole new understanding of the relationship I was in and the person I was in it with.
It’s like I jumped out of that car, went to hospital and fell into a deep coma where I went to the edge of my emotional landscape. I tried all the apples from all the trees—the good ones, the bad ones and the ones that looked like magic mushrooms. And I awoke from my state, ready to get real with the world.
Only, my best friend wasn’t in my world anymore.
I’ve had a bit of a delayed grieving process. Story of my life—I’m always late to the party. I didn’t feel a sense of loss when it all ended, because I didn’t believe it truly had. Plus healing my wounds felt more urgent. But when the wounds did heal, and the lush green metaphorical meadow was empty, the loss kicked me in the eyeballs.
The solace I’ve found in all this is that I have no regrets. I know that I couldn’t have done anything differently. I wasn’t equipped with what I needed to be in that relationship, at that time. And now that I am, I’m not equipped with that relationship, but there is more time.
Some people go to therapy, others journal, meditate or pray. I make videos👇👀👇👀👇👀👇👀
Over and out chicos.
PLEASE EXCUSE TYPOS.
Hey, pal. If you’re still here. Could you do me a favor and subscribe to my YouTube channel. Or subscribe on here, SubStack (less important to me). Thanking you.