Something worth missing

A story of surrender

I got no sleep the other night. I laid in the same spot for hours, entirely restless, my mind reeling until I felt as if my skin would start boiling, from my own stale body heat. I had to move, and it wasn’t until then, my body perpendicular to my boyfriends, his feet a pillow to my head did my mind quiet down.

And isn’t this a perfect moment to ask…

What was inside Amys mind?

During those dark, lonely hours my mind likes to revert back to timelines or images that cause me pain. There’s a few main characters and plot lines that carousel around, but this time, as I pulled one specific person up on my imagery reel, I noticed I actually didn’t feel anything. Not heartbreak, not grief, no resentment, no hard feelings. But most surprisingly, no urge to want to go back.

Make believe Mental nonsense to make me sad: 0

Emotionally mature Amy who has grown and healed: 1

Ultimately, I’m grateful I can miss something. To miss something or someone means you’ve had an amazing experience, and that’s something to celebrate and acknowledge. But I’ve finally learned for the first time in all 23 years of my life: Missing something doesn’t mean you have to want it back.

Gosh if 20 year old Amy could hear me utter those words. Her overly emotional self, going through a slow, heart wrenching friendship break up, who had short dark hair whilst struggling with acne, would tear up at just the idea of some light at the end of the tunnel. I mean shit, she would’ve teared up over literally anything.

I have this thing, where I know I’m going to miss moments while I’m already in then, which is a curse and a blessing. We’ve already talked about that before, but what hurts the most, is I go through the pain of moving on from things twice.

Before my best friend at the time moved away, I remember going over her house just to hangout. Nothing special, nothing new, and while nothing was different I knew it would be soon. We’d be sitting on her bed talking some regular nonsense and out of nowhere I felt the tears rage on. I’d struggle and try my best to stifle them, to act completely fine, to swallow a pit in my throat, but I don’t think I was fooling anybody. This happened for two whole months. When we went shopping, when we’re driving, when we ate sushi on her floor, when we talked about the past, present or future. But we never really acknowledged it. It got to a point where I dreaded hanging out with her, because I couldn’t face the emotions any more. I was grieving the death of a friendship before it even ended. Because somehow I knew it was coming soon. Then I had to grieve it again when it was my actual reality. Does grief ever truly end though?

All that means is I was lucky enough to love someone so much, that losing them caused me such pain. A lot of people never will experience a friendship like that. Being stuck at the hip of eachother. Experiencing first kisses together, getting in trouble, going to our first parties, being there for every birthday. Words can’t really bring enough appreciation for a good girl friendship. And I definitely didn’t take it for granted for the time that I had it. I do miss it. But maybe it was only meant for a season of my life. And to that, I surrender. I’m grateful for that time. I miss it. But I don’t want to go back, even if I did have the chance. Because it brought me to where I am now, and that’s called peace.

I have this written in my notes app from January 2018

“I don’t want to forget late night car rides with my friends. All blasting music and singing along to the best songs. This is the best feeling and I don’t want it to end”

It’s a blessing and a curse to live so deeply in the present moment that you’re aware it’ll become a warm, vivid memory one day.

I do miss that feeling. I do miss late night car rides with my old group of friends. Sometimes I even miss the lame high school house parties. I miss my old best friend and the times we shared. I miss working at Pacsun. I miss back to school shopping. I miss walking around town because I didn’t have a license yet. And I even miss having a small monthly allowance.

I miss those things, but I don’t want them back. And that’s okay.

Why?

Because I’m happy.

So to answer that question from before…in my mind is a flourishing stream of memories. Happy, sad, endearing, funny. Whatever the case may be, I’m grateful to have experienced so many moments worth missing.

I love you. I miss you.

Make a memory today.

Xoxoxo

-Amy