"If this is going to be a mistake, let's make it my best one yet."
I remember saying that to you the moment we committed ourselves to each other. Call me a pessimist but my reason for saying that was not totally unfounded. You see, I knew I was setting myself up for trouble the first time I met you.
You were a man of this world - successful, intelligent, had a good sense of humor, confident, smart and oh so very charming. You were not a sore to the eyes either which was quite a bonus. You were six years my senior too (well, I usually get attracted to older, mature men as they are more sensible and secure than guys my age) which made you all the more appealing.
I may be young but I was told countless of times that I was smart too. It's just sad that being smart was not a guarantee for shielding ourselves from heartbreaks. Like many before me, I was smart but foolish of heart.
I should have listened to the alarm bells that kept on ringing since you came into my life but I was so into the "Age doesn't matter," "All is fair in love...," and "Love conquers all" crap that I probably wouldn't hear those alarm bells even if they clang all too loudly or if someone would thump them in my head. I was THAT in love (or should I say INsane?!). Ugh! But have someone tell either trite cliche to me now and if I can't hide my grimace, I will probably burst out laughing. Deception does come in all appearances and happens in many forms. So does heartache.
Hmm... I am stalling. Again. Like I always do whenever I remember our beginning... as if rehashing that moment will make the ending any different...
Let's go back to you and continue our (yes, there was once an US and an OUR) story... Do you remember how you just laughed my let's-make-this-my-best-mistake-yet comment off? And how you tenderly embraced me as you soothed me? You even said, "You worry too much, baby." This is not a mistake. No, I won't let it be..." I just smiled and hoped it were true.
Of course, we both knew three months thereafter that I was right for the dashing, charming prince suddenly sported horns with a tail to boot. You became controlling, possessive and even obsessed. In many instances, I tried to justify your behavior and even made excuses for you. I told and convinced myself that you just loved me so much...
The last straw came when you very nearly struck me. Horrified, that's when I woke up and smelled the coffee. I loved you. Love you still but I love myself more. No self-respecting woman should allow herself to be inflicted with any harm. No one, man or woman, deserves to be treated harshly for whatever reason or purpose.
You were my sweetest downfall. The person who managed to get past my defenses and whom I allowed to see glimpses of the vulnerable me. You were my favorite mistake too. Oh just how many times had I played stupid for you? I knew some things were wrong and yet for so long, I refused to see reason (the very thing that I get complimented on and envied about) and allowed a vicious cycle of emotional turmoil. For you, I shed the bitterest of tears but it is for you too that I learned to be brave.
Thank you because you were my sweetest downfall but my most triumphant comeback as well. You taught me that stumbling down does not make me a loser but staying down does. For you I stood up. Taller than ever.
Your love brought me to my lowest and weakest moments but because of it, I learned to pull myself together and bounce back higher. Your breaking my heart made me stronger. Wiser. And definitely more "stupid-proof."
Thank you because you were my favorite mistake but my greatest lesson in love as well.
==============inspired by the song title, "My Favorite Mistake" by Sheryl Crow and the first line in "Samson" by Regina Spektor.
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