Things which matter most must never be at the mercy of things that matter least.
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Training Wheels

Everyone told me it gets easier. They lied.
It's like riding a bike, they say. You might not do it for a while, but you always remember how to work that machine when you do the next summer. You are still steady and don't wobble all around like you did when you were first learning. You don't forget what it feesl like to pedal with your legs, with the wind blowing through your hair. That feeling stays with you no matter how long it's been since you last sat on that seat. I've been told this is similar. But those people were wrong.
It's not like riding a bike at all. It's been more than a year now and I don't remember much of anything. Sure, I know I should be able to remember what his hair feels like, the softness of his lips as they press mine. I should be able to recall the smoothness of his hands and the firmness of his chest when I lay my head to rest on it when watching a movie. But I don't. Not really.
It's as though I need training wheels again. As if I can't ride on my own anymore because the part of me that kept me stable and going is gone. And knowing when it's coming back doesn't help a bit, just like knowing that one day your training wheels will come off doesn't help the fact that they are still on. It's just this reminder that you can't do it on your own and you need help to get where you're trying to go. And I can't get there yet.
They all told me it gets easier; that once you've hit that one year mark, everything looks brighter because the number of days and months only gets smaller from here. You're no longer counting up to twelve, but down from it. You've gotten halfway and you're still going strong, or they say.
If that's true, why do I feel as though I want to break? Like my half a heart is going to shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment because it can't handle not having its other half? Because that missing piece of heart is half a world away in a country I love dearly and miss severely. I lived in another country for half a year; please explain how the next year is somehow supposed to go faster than when I was there.I never thought it was going to feel like this. I mean honestly, how are you supposed to prepare for this, at 17 no less? No, no, I don't mean sending him off and being alone for two years. Although, that's a good point as well. But when I was a kid, I never thought love was gonna be like this. Where literally you're other half is with that person, and when that person is gone, that side of you is gone with him. Who knew something like that could start to develop in 17 year olds? And 2+ years later, it hasn't gotten any easier, honestly.
If it's just like riding a bike as they say, why can't I pick myself up and ride off into the sunset or up a mountainside?

Why do I need training wheels again?

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