Image by Jana Brike

Image by Jana Brike

Today we let go.

This year my plans were hijacked by falling in love.

I fell spectacularly fast, screaming yes into the free fall, making choice after choice in the rush of it all, whirring past the warning signs.

In the early months everything seemed possible, every dream had the potential to manifest, we would succeed against the odds.

But then the cracks started to show, opening up the ground and swallowing our love whole.

One day I woke up and saw that we had been in love with a fantasy.

It was a bitter cold reality check.


The magical tapestry of dreams we had woven could no longer keep us warm or hold us together.

It was threadbare now.
Full of holes.

It’s not fair to fall in love with someones potential.

To ask them to change and not appreciate their current form.

It is tiring and destructive and downright unfair.

... and ultimately so disappointing to realise you’ve both been loving people that don’t exist.

It's a disservice to you both to allow fantasy to cloud the reality of the relationship.

And that karmic “I’ve known you for eons” vibe is so seductive.

The same passion that runs hot, lighting fires under your skin ends up burning you alive.

The intensity creates a circuit of blazing highs and debilitating lows, addicted to the breaking + mending.


It hurts to mistake a lesson bearer with a forever lover, both can feel like soul mates but only one is going to stay.

We thought we could defy cultural chasms, consciousness levels, opposing perspectives, conflicting values.

We were defiant AF and fuck we tried.

Howling late night, declaring promises + developing clever plans, Risking everything to be with each other, thinking we could out-trick fate.

As much as you want it to work, as desperately as you plea and bargain..

Sometimes you have to just cut out a piece of your heart
and offer it up as sacrifice.

To be able to go deeper into your own healing, to gain wisdom from the experience, to refine your intuition and self esteem, to understand love more purely.

They say that victims of abuse often find themselves in perpetuating abusive relations throughout their lives, through our scarred psychology + biology that seeks resolution, closure and healing.

It is said that “Trauma creates a compelling drive for re-enactment when we are unaware of it’s impact on us.” - "Waking the Tiger, Healing Trauma"

I am not saying he was abusive, but together at times that is what we became, a toxic and abusive entity.

The not-just-angry-but-emotionally-violent outbursts about things that seemed ridiculous to me, and the extra love I would receive as an apology afterward were all too reminiscent of my childhood, as were the drinking, the broken promises, feeling caged and scared.

It took time, from timid and broken and begging and manipulating his “love” back to developing resilience and self worth and strength.

Enough to walk away with grace.
And compassion.

Sometimes learning the hard way is the only way we are going to really learn the lesson.

I’ll forever be marked by what we shared..

... I’ll never forget our first kiss under the palm trees of the Goan shoreline, him holding my jaw and saying “THIS is how I kiss”

How he would sit with me entwined in any way possible, his strong hands kneading with love...

How he would tease me, making me smile when I was grumpy, laugh when I was mad...

The look in his eyes when they were alive with passion..
The little things he’d do to make me happy, How he looked after me...

Mango dripping down his chin

Pulling my waist close in the middle of the night

Feeding me dal with his fingertips..

The strong sound of his conviction .. his love…


Love is not enough.

Human flawed and imperfect love and lust is just not enough.

You start off hungry and you end up starving.

He loved me as best as he could.
He gave me his heart, full and fucked up, and I gave him mine.

But we can only meet people as deeply as we’ve met ourselves.
And sometimes we are simply meant to learn the lessons and move on.

Sometimes hearts break so more light can get in, so more tenderness can shine through.

Our hearts have been tenderised by all the beating, bruised black + blue, and now it’s time to let them rest, and to nurse them into wholeness again.

I wanted to hold on, and I guess I did for too long and I don’t regret that one bit.

But now it’s time to let go, and I’ve finally stopped wishing for things to be different.

The tears are threatening to drown me as I write this.

My heart is breaking and leaking.


I’m sorry.

I'm so fucking sorry.

I forgive you, I love you,

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.


© Copyright 2017 ~ ALANA LOUISE MAY All Rights Reserved


Image by Jana Brike


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