Last night, I saw a short clip from the movie One More Chance starring Bea & John Lloyd. I have to say I was touched, for a minute I had goose bumps all over my body. I can’t relate in exactly the same way most people who are in a long-term relationship probably could. The truth is, I’ve never been in one – if you define long-term as a period that at least exceeds one year. The longest I’ve had was 7 days before our first anniversary. The shortest was 16 days. In my six equally colourful relationships, the monthsaries never got to anniversaries.
While on the train, my mind was somewhere else. I had questions I was afraid to answer. Why did things end? How in the world did I end up getting to Ex # 6? How did I not ever find myself being given a second chance, or being begged to give it away?
Three times I begged for another chance, and it was always too late. In the past, someone asked for one more chance, but I chose to be fair even if it meant breaking his heart. Recently Ex # 6 wants us to get back together, but subject to conditions. My ex-fiance is asking for another chance, but I feel like the love left in me is like a little candle trying to find its way in a big dark room. I feel silly, for the longest time it’s what I’ve always been praying for, but now, that it’s laid down before me, I am thinking twice.
Why is it that there was never a time when a second chance felt so right?
Today I learned that ex # 5 just got engaged. It’s been 2 years, I know, any feelings I had for him I’ve put together in a box with the good times I chose to keep over the many nights I cried myself to sleep. But somehow it made a thud in my heart. I never imagined him to marry early, I never imagined he’d be capable of committing. He must have found ‘the one’ already.
I ask myself why I hadn’t been ‘the one’ for him, or for the rest of them who are all happily married by now.
I know there must be something amiss about me, but until now, I haven’t got to the bottom of it. I could start counting my inadequacies but by the time I reach the end of my list, I would have lost my esteem already, much more my sanity. I could wallow in regrets and second guesses but clearly there is nothing to be gained, once spilled, it’s spilled. I have made many mistakes, but isn’t love all about acceptance? Isn’t love about second chances?
People promise you forever, and you trust, and then you break into pieces. It seems like in my case, it took significantly more time stitching back the pieces together than the time I ever felt whole.
It bothers me, you know. It worries me that I’ll forever be swimming in that big ocean. I will never settle.
