Last year I broke up with someone I cared for deeply. For myriad reasons, mainly distance, it was agreed we had to let each other go. It was a bittersweet parting as the connection, trust and respect we had built for each other over our two years of on-and-off dating was still there.
And it was beautiful, even if impossible. His parting words at the time were, “what a tragedy to be throwing such good love away”. It seems relationships have become too easily disposable, discarded at the first whiff of spoil.
Credit: ISTOCK That statement almost winded me, as what he said was profoundly true. Today, I am discovering good love is hard to find and, sadly, often hard to keep. It seems relationships have become too easily disposable, discarded at the first whiff of spoil.
Tolerance levels are low to the point of nadir, individual baggage packed to capacity with pain. We have learnt how to stand up and defend ourselves, but our armour has become impregnable. We protect ourselves from hurt at all costs, which means love can come at too high a price.
I am not just talking about romantic love here, although I admit it adds layers of issues and pressures platonic love does not. I’m talking about good, real love, the kind that fills your emotional bucket, that makes you feel understood, that has your back - an alchemy that chemically connects two disparate souls into a safe place of sanctuary and support. It is rare and fragile, something that must be nurtured, cherished and appreciated.
As someone with little family, friendships to me are everything. We protect ourselves from hurt at all costs, which means love can come at too high a price. The reason I am so reflective on lost love currently is because I recently fell out with someone I adore.
A political argument got out of hand and, as a result, we no longer speak. I have tried to make amends many times with no luck, and so I texted some parting words last night: “what a shame to throw such good love away”. And I meant every word.
The fracturing of our platonic yet intense friendship made me reflect on a falling out I had with another friend some 20 years ago, a girl I loved like a sister. For decades we were a team. Where one was, the other was close by.
We could never see a time when this wouldn’t be the case and talked about our futures growing old disgracefully together. Then, we had an argument over what I am still unsure, and my friend cut all contact. I felt as if one of my ventricles had been ripped from my heart.
It was as painful as any romantic break-up I’ve endured, as bad as saying goodbye to my beloved dog. Yep, it crushed me. All that good love was thrown away.
It was, and remains, a tragedy. I miss her to this day. Some solace amidst my pain of late has been the fact I’m aware I do not toss the good stuff willingly, easily or happily.
I am proud to say I remain friends with all my exes bar one and have friendships that have endured my lifetime. I try to reflect on the good in all my relationships, romantic and otherwise, where I have found the ability to give and receive the good stuff freely, despite the fear it may one day disappear. One particular ex of mine and I reconnected online a few years ago.
There was no more talk of the pain of our parting, no more blaming and shaming. Instead, we both reflected rhapsodically about the fun we had, the obstacles we endured and how deeply, devotedly and passionately in love we were. And so, he flew down to see me a few weeks later and within hours it was as if nothing had changed.
We found ourselves holding hands out of habit and making each other shine and swoon. We decided our good love needed another chance. However, by the week’s end, we both realised our time and place to be together had come and gone.
Yet, in parting, we said we would always love each other. And we meant it. I cherish him to this day.
And so, I plan to keep my heart open to my newly estranged friend. I will reflect on all the shared confidences and child-like silliness we shared and not the heated parting over our strong differences of opinion. Should he wish to forgive and forget, I will welcome him back with both arms.
Because I know at this age that good love is way too precious to toss aside for the hollow folly of pride. Get the best of Sunday Life magazine delivered to your inbox every Sunday morning. Sign up here for our free newsletter .
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