Last fall I fought with C for two solid weeks. Nothing was resolved, but when I moved we stopped fighting. We didn’t speak for three months. During those three months I did my best not to think about him; I sequestered every song, every photo, every thing that could evoke a memory of him. This time around I’ve started doing the same things, but today, via The Happiness Project, I found something that’s making me reconsider.
This photograph is my proof. There was that afternoon when things were still good between us, and she embraced me. And we were so happy. It did happen. She did love me. Look, see for yourself!
Those things aren’t just bitter reminders that I have lost something huge, but also proof that I really did have this beautiful, challenging, life-changing experience. In the months that it took for us to lose each other so completely, I asked myself over and over if the years of our friendship were worth what I was going through at that moment. I have wondered if I imagined how well I was loved — could I have misunderstood so much? Now I have proof, proof that it was worth it, proof that I was loved.