To Meet the Right Person at the Wrong Time — Can There Really Be a Wrong Time?

If this ever happened to you—for real—you know how all-consuming the pain is. When it ended for the wrong reasons: it seems like a crime against destiny.

But was it the right person at the wrong time, or, at the right time?

After all, it happened because it had to happen. It couldn’t be any other way. This was a wake-up call. For you to see your own insecurities. Your own naivety. You own attachment issues. Your own traumas that stealthily programmed unconstructive behaviors.

At least, that’s what I finally arrived at. But it wasn’t a quick thing.

I needed time to confront the heartache after a period of escaping it by getting myself into worse drama and farce. Escaping never works. Never. I had to learn. To do so, I needed to accept the grief that would come with standing still with myself. Go back to the memories; sort out what actually happened. No glossing over. No whitewashing.

To disentangle I wrote and meditated [as in contemplate] a lot. And I conversed with a few friends. To the extent they had the energy to listen and understand; there comes a time when it’s not helpful to overwhelm others with your own brooding.

I had to let go of the idea of blaming only the unfortunate circumstances. (Unfortunate indeed, both in time and space.) I had to let go of the idea of giving full responsibility to the other person. Who ended it with untrue words in a magnificent rage. Who’s heart became utterly unreachable. Something that hurt like hell.

There’s not necessarily any excuse for that, but to free myself I had to understand why it happened.

At last, I had to also look within myself. Subtle cues in the months before it happened—I refused to confront. My naivety allowed me to admire the other person, and to become blind to his flaws and errs. He was not perfect and it’s not fair to assume that about anyone.

Out of fear I suppressed the cues that something was wrong.

Out of fear of confrontation and potential consequences of such.

And I became subtly more anxious and fearful in our communication. (That took place at long-distance — different continents kind of distance.)

Why did I refuse to see his non-ideal sides? Why didn’t I confront the heralding hints of disconnection that was emerging?

My insecurity and self-doubts led my anxiety to grow. The fear of losing (him) became dominant. That became a self-fulfilling prophecy. That’s what unconfronted fear does.

Then, I had to ask myself, what unresolved previous conflicts led me there? What did I do— unwillingly and unwittingly —to push him away?

How did we instigate each other to bring an end to what we least wanted to end?

We were both immature. We were both naïve in our expectations. We both had insecurities and serious unresolved inner conflicts. And we could not save one another. Because we were not yet ready to save ourselves.

Insecurities and doubts don’t go away by suppressing them. What that does is disconnect us from the people we love the most. The love withers and mostly attachment remains.

What we least want becomes what happens.

That’s why we need to prep ourselves for love. Mature. Do self-work. Heal. Learn to love ourselves first.

No one else can rescue us but ourselves. Sure, we can and need to help each other out — and, hopefully, we will. Hopefully, we shall be lenient towards each other’s flaws and errors. Have the courage to communicate what we think and feel. And give one another time to improve. But there must be a will and determination to improve and sincerely work on ourselves.

It’s not enough to be crazy about one another. Life is not that simple. I’m not your rescuer; you’re not mine. I’m my own rescuer; only then can I give to you all I can give. Only then can I love you fully, because I know how to trust [myself].

Perhaps a cliché, but true love isn’t about what you can do for me, but what I can do for you. (Of course, it only works long-term if it goes both ways. But there can be a natural emerging of those actions, without hidden egoistic intentions.)

Without trust, love withers.

To build trust we must contend with our own attachment issues.

It won’t be the perfect fairytale, and there must be some courage to confront the confusions and problems that arise. To maintain a healthy relationship costs energy and effort: it costs confronting and overcoming our insecurities.

The ones that are not willing — don’t want true love. (They’re afraid of it.)

Love is anything but child’s play.

To confront your insecurities is the best you can do for yourself and your loved ones. (And the society.)

To meet the right person at the wrong time needn't be a curse. Perhaps it happened because that’s what it took to stir you up enough to wake you up from your hazy dreams and take charge of your life. Not fun, but healing! If you decide to learn from it.

'What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.'

At least I wouldn’t have it any other way. I wouldn’t have my memories erased.

'My formula for greatness in a human being is Amor Fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it — all idealism is mendaciousness in the face of what is necessary — but love it.'

— Friedrich Nietzsche

Originally published on Medium