I was really excited about turning 27, so excited that I created a google form a month before I turned 27, asking my friends for their preferences. On the day I turned 27, I still was excited till I realised someone had forgotten my birthday. Not even the beautiful faces of my friends or their presence could cheer me up.
27 was a great year for me. I met all the career goals I set for myself. I got a promotion, I resigned my job in a gracious manner, I got a job in tech in the exact department I wanted, my net pay moved to the bracket I put down (currently working two jobs to achieve this sha lol). In my last days of 27, I successfully changed my career path.
27 was when I went through the worst physical pain I’ve ever gone through. The pain drew me close to my most recent lover.
26 was when I met my most recent lover. 27 was when he became my lover.
“I’ve been in a number of relationships- romantic, casual, friends with benefits- but I’ve never been in one like this. I’ve never spent as much weekends (and weekdays) with anyone – weekends where we chill, fight, [redacted], see movies, [redacted], [redacted], cook, talk, ignore each other lol, work (sometimes), gossip and just have fun.”
Those were the first lines of the “love letter” I wrote to him. I wrote it and shared it with him via google drive, so he will always remember how I feel about him. I really liked him and how he made me feel. He’s good people lol.
In my last days of 27, I learnt that when people show you a side of them you never knew existed, you don’t question it, you don’t make excuses for them; you accept it. That someone was the best person in your life at some point, that someone was your biggest cheerleader at some point is not reason enough for you to keep making excuses for them. People outgrow people and that’s fine (or not).
Flaws and all, one thing about me is I’ll always try. Try to right my wrongs, try to make things work, but the thing about trying is the other person has to want it also. There’s only so much trying you can try when someone doesn’t want to be with you anymore. Only so much.
I’m a hopeless romantic that keeps finding myself in undefined relationships (this one is fully on me) but in my last days of 27 I came to the realization that I want to love and be loved. I want to love loudly without holding back, I want to be fully committed to someone without the feeling of doing too much. I want the love I see in my romcoms, I want the raw emotions, the feeling of pure unadulterated joy at the thought of the object of my affection.
I think about my lover a lot. When I think of him, I don’t remember the bad days, I don’t remember the hurtful things he said to me, I don’t remember all the things that I did that led us here. No, I don’t. I think of how well he treated me, I think of how happy I was around him, I remember the times he made me feel special. On days when I remember that his feelings towards me have changed and I have to move on, I think of our last conversation – it does the magic.