Watching the film Crazy Rich Asians is always so intense to watch. I think I’m going to use here to grieve. Little by little. Or to help reshape and reform my thoughts.
This was one of the first films we watched together and where I started to learn to feel comfortable with someone. Most specifically, with being outwardly emotional and allowing myself to cry.
I’ve come to learn that self-soothing techniques used while I was growing up have me realizing that my learning to self-soothe planted the seed of toxic independence. I can cry on my own and settle these emotions on my own, so why should I open up and share them. I take care of and handle me.
Which, is a terrible thought process by the way. But it’s how I came to handle and think of my emotions. And now, I’m unlearning and relearning. To love myself and share myself with me, sitting side by side with my emotions and asking them what their needs are.
Do you want to know the worst part? Now that I’ve needed to move into healing instead of hurting, being honest with myself, I can’t imagine my life without him in it. It may not be romantic or with a ring on each of our fingers, but I have not loved anyone as deeply or unconditionally as I did/do Waldemar. And now that I’m being honest with myself, I’ve come to learn even more after the relationship than I did in it.
Love is a force I cannot control, and I’d be a fool to think I could, so all I can do is admit how much I do love him. Does that make it toxic, does that make it healthy? I’ve no fucking idea, but it’s where I’m at and no more am I going to be complacent and unconscious.