When enough is enough

I've always known I've had a problem of knowing when to walk away.  It just wasn't usually something that effected more than myself.  This time, unfortunately, it does.  And  with that said, I'm writing this not to hurt the other person, not to accuse them of anything, or anything like that; I write this to vent because I don't even really understand it.  Maybe it's too early in time to start to drawl a deeper meaning from it, to learn a lesson from it.

I think sometimes when we form relationships, romantic or not, we try to see what we want to.  We try to ignore anything about the other person that either hurts us or makes us uncomfortable.  And maybe that's what happened this time; I wanted to forget that this person had hurt me and put that behind me so much that I let them hurt me a second time.  And I'm not saying that there was anything other than friendship between me and this person, because honestly that's all there was. 

I began this post awhile ago, and am finishing it after having a chance to take a step back and try to figure things out.  Unfortunately, that hasn't gone so well.  I thought that I had figured out what to do and as soon as I had made my decision, things changed again.  And I did that a second time; I decided that it was time to let things rest, but as soon as I had, certain memories came back and I wasn't so sure I could let that go. 

I've felt alone before, but usually I chose that.  I chose to be alone with my thoughts, chose to turn people away and let no one inside my walls.  Now?  Now that's not so much the case.  I feel like I've lost a huge part of me, yet I haven't actually lost it.  And I know this isn't making any sense to anyone but myself.  And I don't want to put all of my personal business out there.  But I really need to write this, to get some stuff off of my chest - even if I decide not to publish this.

When I let someone in, that means that I trust them - completely. 

I had told myself that it was best to walk away the first time I found myself hurting because of them, but I couldn't imagine my life without them anymore.  They had made me forget about everything I had been through.  They made me happy; not "I haven't cried yet today and it's almost 8pm", not "My heart ache is a little lesser today", not "I'm smiling but I still miss Jimmy", but HAPPY.  And I know that sounds a little selfish, but I think that's why I couldn't stand the thought of letting this person go.  I had tasted happiness and I felt more like myself than I had in months, and I didn't want to go back to being dejected and depressed.   So I ignored anything about this person that could have been seen as a warning sign.

I lost someone I thought to be my best friend because they said something to this person behind my back.  I didn't appreciate what was said and I'm not sure if they know that they lost my friendship and my respect.  But I thought that had made me and this other person closer, bonded us in some way knowing that I could trust them enough that they'd tell me if another friend had said something about me.

And I am, again, coming back to this post.  And parts of it are no longer relevant.  But I did lose a friendship out of this ordeal, and that saddens me.  And it's kind of awkward because I still know, see, and love parts of this person's family.  But, as I've said before, each relationship must teach you something ~ and I think this one taught me A) That it's okay to be happy and B) Trust has to be earned and that you should really know a person before you let them in.

But enough of this. I'm over it; I've made my peace with the situation and have "said" my goodbyes.

And speaking of goodbyes, this year is kind of sucking.  In my last post, I had mentioned that I had lost a very dear friend, Harry.  And on March 10th, I lost another loved one.  My Uncle Drew passed away on March 10th, around 3:20pm with his family by his side.  He had suffered a massive heart attack and his body couldn't keep going.  I cannot describe how this loss has impacted me; Drew was someone I never thought about losing.  You look around and see your older relatives and, I think, in a way, we all prepare ourselves to lose them eventually.  But Drew was 47, with two young kids.  He was a comedian, a father, a complete goofball. . .He was Drew.  And those are the people you don't think about losing. 

One thing that is odd about losing him is that it's easier for me to laugh.  Because he was so full of life, it's easier for me to be reminded that I have to live.  And live fully, not just day-to-day trying to get through life.  I have to live every day with passion, with love, and with laughter.  I miss him so very much, and I still am waiting for the punch line, but I feel like maybe, somewhere, he's out there nudging me saying, "Hanna, you've gotta keep going.  You've gotta keep laughing.  You've gotta keep living, and keep loving."

And, my GREAT Great-Uncle Drew, I promise you, I'm not wasting any more of my life.