When Fantasy Becomes Reality

That was the title of one of the earliest website layouts I had. Funny enough, I feel like it places such a significance with how my life is now. I know I used to write and blog a lot. When I would write, it would be to vent or contemplate on whatever I’m currently struggling with. I guess that’s what writing is. Just another outlet for me. For the last five years, I haven’t written that much. And when I did write, it was for that kind of reason. To vent any sort of frustration or sadness I had. And when everything was going great in my life, I hardly would write about it. The thought of penning it down would cross my mind, but I rarely did so. Probably ’cause I wanted to live in the moment. And in those moments, I lived.

I lived a long dream. A wonderful dream that I thought would never end. But now that dream is over. Finally, I thought I had my life figured out. I guess I was wrong. And I’m back to square one. It feels like I’m 19 years old again. Lost. Confused. Anxious. Scared. I honestly have been trying to figure out where to go from here because it feels like I’m learning to breathe again.

It’s almost been three months since that night. It’s been a month since I relapsed. The relapse hurt me harder than it did when it actually happened because he had moved on. Long story short, my best friend, the love of my life left me. It wasn’t all his fault. It was mine too. I could’ve salvaged it. We could’ve saved it. But I’m stupid. But I can’t lean on that now that it’s over. I try not to, but the mind is foolish, of course.

Known each other for seven. Been together for five.

Being with someone for so long when you barely knew how to drive a car, or learned how to integrate Calculus equations with substitution, or did not even know your set career path until you’ve been inspired by them… When that person leaves your life, it changes you. All the color in my life has drained and faded to black and white.

It’s a silly metaphor, don’t you think? But let me put it this way. Imagine that my whole world was in black and white prior to being with him. Now, grayscale isn’t so bad when that’s all I’ve ever experienced. There’s still beauty in that gray world. And I was content, yes. However, the more I spent time with him, I learned so much more about him, myself, and the world around me. I was shown a different color spectrum. There was so much more in life that I never knew. I didn’t know that I could be happier. Living a dream I never thought I could live with someone who was in sync with 90% of my being. And while the spectrum of color had some shades that weren’t completely flattering at times, looking it as a whole, it was still beautiful.

And I’d take it over gray any day.

But now, my heart just keeps beating, and I’m living back in this grayscale world. Since I’ve experienced color, I’m longing for it. I’m no longer content. I haven’t been, since that day. I’m lonely. Still scared to go out. Unsafe. Unsure.

Now I’m the one who needs saving.