The Unexpected
Recently, I saw someone I’ve been avoiding for years.
I knew the encounter was going to happen one day, but I wasn’t prepared. If anything, I was terrified.
It’s funny how trauma works. You think you’re truly over something, but when you look directly at the source, all of the preparation dissipates. Instead, your fight or flight response takes over. You’ll sit there looking calm and collected, but on the inside, you’re trying to not have an anxiety attack.
One of the hardest tests of maturity is seeing how you react to the unexpected.
In this scenario, did my anxiety send my heart rate to 130 and pump adrenaline all over my body? Absolutely. Did I let that stop me from continuing my day? No, and that’s something I’m proud of.
Seeing someone who left a hole in my heart wasn’t easy. This specific relationship caused me a tremendous amount of emotional turmoil. He broke down my walls, and I rebuilt my barriers a thousand times stronger.
This connection changed the trajectory of my life and how I handle intimacy going forward. I used to tell myself to just get over it, but then I realized something: I can’t just “get over” a situation that altered my perception of reality. All I could do was move forward with a new perspective on life.
And that’s exactly what I did.
My sense of independence grew after the worst was over. I was able to find myself and my passions. I created a whole new life surrounded by amazing people. I’m not who I used to be; I’m stronger.
So when I saw this person walk through the door, I was scared, but I also knew he had no power over me anymore. There’s a comfort in knowing that the one person that truly hurt me has no idea who I am. He doesn’t know my stances on political topics, he never met my friends from college and he has no clue what my go-to meal is at my favorite restaurant.
I’m a stranger to him, and he’s a stranger to me. The only difference is that we are strangers with a powerful past. Our relationship was a chapter in my life, and that’s all it will ever be— a story I’ll tell once in a blue moon.
Even then, the narrative isn’t about him. It’s about how open-hearted and trusting I used to be. It’s a story of how one of the lowest points of my life built me into the person I am today.
I’m at peace with the entire situation, but that doesn’t mean I forgot the pain. It’s still there, but it’s alive in a different form.
Instead of the hurt focusing on their actions, it’s focused on myself. It’s remembering how much I cried in my room over the mistreatment and confusion. It’s a flashback of me pleading for this person’s time and approval when I deserved so much more.
The pain amplifies my regret. I wasn’t perfect either, I know that. I had many moments where I was incredibly stubborn, impatient and selfish. I made my fair share of mistakes, but a lot of my reactions stemmed from a missing component of our relationship.
We were never going to work out in the long run no matter how hard we tried. Our ideals and perspectives of the world were completely different.
We kept unintentionally hurting each other until the very end.
It’s almost like I forgot he was real to begin with. I only saw him in my memories. He felt like a random, cold gust of wind on a perfect day.
I used to compare every guy I saw to him. The comparison wasn’t in a “I want a guy just like him” way; it was in a “I never want to experience that kind of pain again” way.
I do truly hope he’s thriving and happy. I’d never wish for anything horrible to happen to him. The whole situation is just a sore spot I never want to interact with again.
People come into your life like waves. Some are small, barely making an impact. Others are tsunamis transforming the beach’s topography into something unrecognizable.
For those who have experienced similar hardships, I want you to remember one thing: the tidal wave that changed everything is over. Don’t stare at the destruction, pick up the mess piece by piece. Rediscover yourself and experience the little joys of being alive.
Life may be messy, but it also provides something very beautiful— the unexpected. Your pain may cut deep today, but you have no idea what’s coming your way tomorrow. Hold onto that, and keep growing into the person you’re meant to be.
Sincerely, Abbey