You’ll get used to it. It’ll be fine. You’ll get used to the deafening silence and overwhelming loudness of the mundane. You’ll get used to looking up at the empty frame on the wall that used to hold your favorite picture of the two of you. You’ll get used to spending evenings alone that you used to spend together doing nothing but what you’re doing now, except it meant something different when you were with someone you dreamed about a beach wedding with, right down to the color of the flowers. A lot of these things you miss were born of rituals, habits that you fell into because you spent so much time together. Knowing that doesn’t make them less valuable but maybe helps you realize that it’s not impossible to incorporate new habits. That the idea of missing someone can be softened over time and your history still cherished like your favorite blanket. There can be contentment and resolve in moving on and doing what’s best for you all the while holding close something that felt so safe and sound, so comfortable. Something you imagined would never unravel. And then find yourself amazed at the idea that you can still breathe without it. That your heart hurts but it still beats. That your body aches and longs for something that isn’t there but still manages to carry you through the day, each and every day. Beauty and marvel lie in knowing that you can find some purpose in the wreckage, that you can allow a generous, expansive space for all the gorgeousness that you shared and also acknowledge that you were simply not meant to be forever. Honoring who you were and where you’re going next are not mutually exclusive.
I think one of the most difficult things we experience as humans is navigating our way through any meaningful relationship break up, because of the loneliness. All the empty space between what was and what might have been. You’re not only letting go of someone you loved and cared about, you’re letting go of the idea that you were creating a future together and now you’re not. It’s all the hopes and dreams that you pinned on this union and connection, nurtured and cherished, now turned to dust. The comfort of knowing someone is there has vanished. Sharing your small daily irritants and victories is no longer available. The uncertainty can feel overwhelming and scary.
That’s why people don’t lean into it. Instead, we avoid, we move quickly toward another person, we spend every night trying to find some distraction or immerse ourselves in busy work to disguise the pain. There’s nothing wrong with that for a while but any issues that you don’t resolve and learn from will sink deep within you and come back to bleed on someone else later. It is almost a sacred space to sit with the loneliness after something ends because it has so much to reveal. There are lessons and insights to who you are, to who you were with another person, to what you want and what you don’t want and these are such valuable teachers for us. However, if we’re so busy pushing it away, trying to avoid the pain we miss the opportunity for our own growth.
Maybe we fear loneliness because we’ve never allowed ourselves to truly experience it and we’re afraid it will last forever. Because it feels so deep and infinite and is usually accompanied by ruminating, unanswered questions. But dear one, nothing lasts forever, and we can trust the process of moving through one experience toward something else. While we tend to reject any feelings that aren’t comfortable, the truth we don’t like to hear is that pain, loss, loneliness and letting go teach us things that we can’t learn any other way. Your resilience isn’t built through ease. That comes through challenging times where you have to reach deep into yourself for perspective. Sitting with your negative emotions helps you find out what they’re feeding on and that’s where the magic is. It’s the gateway to understanding life and getting unstuck.
In my experience and out of necessity I have had to learn how to move on from someone, while loving and missing them. I’m not a lonely person and I savor my independence, yet I have experienced the pangs of loneliness when I’ve had to release a relationship. That’s part of the human condition. Breakups and transitions are hard. They can leave you feeling off balance, vulnerable, maybe even fragile. Of course you want to avoid all that, but you can’t. So the sooner you create a place to feel these things, the sooner you can heal. With application I’ve discovered my own resilience in thriving forward. I consciously, intently sit with the disquiet even when I want to run like hell. It’s a challenging, worthwhile practice and it has taught me the most about who I am.
One of the most valuable things I’ve gleaned is that it’s okay to think of someone, send them grace and recognize that, without going back or getting involved again. When the feelings become immense, you can choose how you want to respond to them by talking to yourself out loud. Giving your feelings a voice acknowledges that you’re hurting, and then you can remind yourself that, oh yeah, things are different now and I can do this. It will just take time, patience and new habits. One day you’ll find your footing again. I promise you, this time of your life can transform you. I have come through every single experience I’ve ever had where I was hurting, lonely or sad and been stronger for it. Nothing lingers forever.
It’s imperative to allow space for our emotions to reveal themselves to us. So we can befriend them, learn to identify, own and understand them. Not greet them with disdain or judgement, not shove them into a dark corner, just recognize and listen to their wisdom. They are not our nemesis, but an integral part of our experience that offers us discernment if we make room for them, just like our joy.