At the beginning, there was a lustful obsession; an intense infatuation. A desire to impress and a willingness to be impressed upon. The relationship was new, and like all new relationships, I was blindly optimistic, romantically hopeful, and expected nothing but eternal bliss – forever.
Like all relationships – the honeymoon stage ended shortly thereafter, and I was faced with an ugliness I did not anticipate. The reality of responsibilities and my own inadequacies to perform frightened me. What now? I talked a big show, made declarations to the world, left the comfortable world I knew for a lifelong commitment I was unprepared for.
The truth is, I stopped loving, and quickly after, I stopped giving. I went through the motions, but I was hollow. I allowed others’ opinions “that there was better out there for me” to infiltrate my mind, and eventually my heart. I was disenfranchised, and somewhat resentful. Committed by pride and honour, I kept the relationship alive.
It wasn’t easy
I stayed in there, through the bad and the worse, scared as hell that it was going to end, and not on my terms. I dragged family and friends in, I was joined at the hip and known as part of this unit. The embarrassment of failure was always lurking and continuously haunting me. I suffered through panic attacks, anxiety, and depression that lasted months at a time. All while pretending that things were okay. Always smiling when people asked how I was doing. I was terrified of the path I had chosen.
There is youthful love that comes with expectations of romance, fire, and lightning. And then there is mature love – one that’s based on trust, commitment, and being there for each-other through thick and thin. Not that fire and romance doesn’t exist – but that it exists on a much higher plane. One that brings fulfillment without the highs and lows of a crazy rollercoaster. Now, only peace exists.
I realized that our relationship was dying and it was because I stopped loving. I had false expectations of what the relationship should provide me, and quietly gave up. All the while, she was working hard for our future. It was summer of 2014 when I realized this, and I became overwhelmed with guilt. See, I had already started looking at my options, and seriously seeking a smooth transition to something bigger and better. I had psychologically given up, turned my back, and dishonoured her. It was then, when all the beautiful memories of our last five years together rushed back. Through thick and thin, she was there. I am a better man because of this relationship; because of her.
I have fallen back in love harder than ever before. Stronger than I had thought I could.
Thank you Pixel Dreams for so much you have given my family, friends, and I. I will love you forever; protect you, care for you, and honour you. It’s no longer what you can give to me – but what I can give to you.
Long live Pixel Dreams. Long live the Pixel Dreams Team.