Tonight I saw Mr. Will for the first time in several months.
A man who, for more than a year, I felt I must have been in love with.
A man who flirted and fled on more than one occasion, in that game of hearts which some men like to play.
Tonight, for the first time since meeting him, I honestly felt nothing. There was affectionate friendship, and nothing more.
No desire for his touch.
No urge to be in his arms.
No fever for his kiss.
It was not just the discovery of his fickle, and oftentimes selfish, character. It was expanding my emotional knowledge.
After seeing how I could be treated, how other men have offered to treat me, it seemed a much better deal than Mr. Will’s attitude, despite his good looks and charm.
When I knew that romance was not an option, both because of his fickle feelings and the realisation that I wanted more than he could offer, I was heartbroken.
That first true, deep heartbreak of adult life.
It is a comfort and relief to know that, even when feelings or someone seem all-consuming, sometimes not getting your heart’s desire is the best thing which could ever happen for you.
Sometimes to win the war against yourself is the hardest battle of all.
And sometimes that freedom is worth fighting for.