Prologue: Love Conquers All

How can you go from truly believing you have found the one, to marrying someone else in the next breath? 

How does a relationship seem so promising, feel so fulfilling in the moment, and yet fated for failure when looking back? 

How does it get to the point where you can no longer justify your friendship to the best friend you thought you had for life? 

Or worse yet, maybe it was never about them. Maybe, in all these relationship failures, it was you. You were the problem. You are the common denominator after all...

With any relationship—platonic or otherwise—the beginning is the brightest and most optimistic time period. For failure is not an option. You vow to give it your all, to be there always, and surely as do they. And for some reason, you're convinced—no matter the hurdles—you'll find the delirious end to the maze of adversity. And you will both cross the finish line. Because you love each other and this is the meaning of true love. Because, after all, love conquers ALL.

Until it doesn't.

It's like the telling omen off a shattering glass bowl that, unbeknownst to you, suddenly slips through your fingers; and as the pulverized remnants lay haphazardly on the ground—your ears still ringing from the crash and your body suspended from the shock—you have yet to realize the preemptive warnings the universe gives. That your mind gives. That your heart gives. That you somehow continuously choose to ignore. Because, after all, love conquers all. 

Or that's what you thought. 

Really, that's what I thought.

Not all of them ended so dramatically. Some were actually rather simple—a sad consequence of the situation—beyond either of our control and therefore cheated out of the time the relationship deserved to blossom. Others dragged on too long. Much too long—for neither of us left unscathed. While still, others, were somehow in aggregate meaningless—even after the countless promising moments of seemingly being meaningful. 

But, perhaps, these are all empty interpretations—used to fill the void from the loss of their presence; because giving things a pretty explanation, wrapped up primly and finished with a neat bow, tends to cater to the battered remains left in wake of their hurricane-like impact on you. By adding the misleading fluff and frill, we could then—more easily—ignore our own inane role that catered to the demise of that relationship. Thereby, we may continue to lick our wounds as if we are the bigger victim in this tragedy. 

Either way, however, whether you choose the thorns of reality or a rosy illusion, the relationship remains over and its influence steadfast. What this choice means for your future? Only time will tell. 

What this meant for my future? I can tell you right now.

While my story has not ended yet, I can reflect on the past and the people that touched my life for the better and for the worse. Whether they ended on good terms or not, I'm glad I met them—for the time we spent. They taught me about myself, who I wanted to be, and how I wanted to be perceived. They are, without a doubt, the reason I can give the next one a better version of myself. The latest and greatest updated me, hopefully in time for when I meet you.

So, although I haven't met you yet, I'm chronicling my story. I still don't know where this journey ends or if it will ever end. I don't know when I will meet you, if I'll ever meet you, or if you even exist. What I do know is that, these people? In this story I'm about to tell? They are those I loved before you.

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