How Long Does it Take to Fall in Love?

I am so very proud of myself.

The truth is, I fell in love.

I know what you’re thinking, can you really fall this quickly?

Let’s say I fell in love with happiness, with a man who made me feel seen, understood, who was happy to meet and even to anticipate my needs. With a man who championed me, who is as romantic, sweet and as caring as I am.

He chose not to invest in me.

He was aware of his own life phase and he was capable of telling me exactly this.

There is little I can do to fault him, he ended it before it could start and I am so very proud of myself for walking away from something that was most certainly not right for me.

I am ready for a big love, and he knew.

I think he also knew that this love had the potential to be it.

He got scared.

If you’ve been reading my blog you probably already know this, but I have a Hollywood part that edits my life in my own mind and creates a happy trailer version of the movie of what’s happening. I always see everything through rose colored lenses.

I’ve learned we must try and see reality as it is.

Reality is, he chose not to be with me.

He chose silence.

He chose to let me go.

And I was finally able to choose me.

I was finally able to choose reality over a dream.

And then, the unimaginable happened: my therapist finally fired me.

After countless years working on myself in therapy, my therapist said she’s never seen me doing so well, to call her when I need her.

I have been promoted from therapy.

Lessons from my therapist: in order to change, you have to keep practicing that muscle.

It’s great that you were able to stand up for yourself in multiple occasions, she said, however we tend to revert back to our original state. So you must continue to actively practice that muscle now. You can’t turn back.

I have finally learned to respect myself, I have managed to find once again my bold voice, I have begun learning what I need and expressing that need.

I’ve learned to give myself time, compassion, the same empathy I offer to those around me.

I have learned that my needs matter, I have learned to stop and ask myself what I need to feel better and how to give it to myself.

The other day when feeling the struggle of detachment from F I asked myself why I was holding on in waves to this sadness and I realized the sadness was a way of trying to hold on to him.

I also realized that the worst that could have happened had already happened. It was over.

And in a way, I’m fine.

I still find joy in the little things of life. I feel blessed for my amazing life.

A part of me believes in my friend Federica’s motto ‘those who don’t die return’, however, I wonder if this will be the case as everyone thinks this time unfortunately it will be different.

It’s time to move on.

I once watched a podcast in which they were interviewing an Italian author, Alessandro Baricco.

He talks about “moving on” not as a desperate escape, but as the delicate art of letting life flow. Finding happiness on Earth, according to Baricco, depends heavily on our ability to release things — whether it is losing an everyday object, saying goodbye to a friend, or even letting go of a beautiful memory instead of desperately trying to recreate it.

I still struggle to do this, so I thought perhaps I would try putting my thoughts into writing.

F,

We fell into something one of a kind, perhaps it was falling love perhaps it was just falling into us. Either way, something this special rarely comes around. You made me feel safe, inspired, crazy happy, filled with energy, madly in love with us.

You said your number one value was sincerity, here we go.

I’m not built for something like this, where you dive in with your whole heart and then get ignored for days. I was clearly born in the wrong era, maybe I’m a bit too romantic — actually, I kind of thought you were too.

I couldn’t wait to be with you, regardless of all the reasons we thought it was a terrible idea.

You are wonderful.

I wanted to be by your side in this beautiful phase of life, to tell each other everything that happens to us, big or small, to laugh, to build something together, to fall asleep in each other’s arms — I haven’t slept since I stopped sinking into your neck, barely breathing.

I thought about what life could look like— wild gestures, surprises outside your door, stolen kisses while running late for work, summer showers on my little terrace.

I understand and respect your decisions, even though I think it’s truly — I can’t find the words for it but — so sad — not to live something so out of the ordinary. Something so exceptional.

I genuinely thought when I’d meet my soulmate I would feel pissed off for making me wait 39 years to come get me and instead now I know — you were just a kid! This is the earliest you could have come. Suddenly it all made sense.

I’m quite surprised you haven’t come get me yet but what can I say? I trust. I choose to trust that if we are it, if this is actually it, you will be back.

And despite proof of the contrary, I believe you will be.

With love, frustration, resentment and unwavering hope,

A

Or, in realty I’d just like to say:

F, what the F are you doing, come get me already. Thanks bye.

All we can do, is get back on the bike and keep going, hence I must. Especially with the awareness that I have already said absolutely everything I needed to say.

And, as I sit here thankful to myself for the changes I was able to put into action with patience, kindness and empathy, all I can say is: get ready my friends, for past this point I have sinned.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.