In Greek mythology, the Phoenix is a bird that regenerates after dying and rises up from the ashes. It’s become a symbol of triumph, renewal, and rebirth.
While this is a beautiful and inspiring concept, it’s not necessarily desirable in all situations.
Like, say, with past loves.
With such an open book of a love life (literally), as soon as I started blogging again, loves that had burned to the ground began to rise up again. Time has passed, wounds have healed, and new life is growing again through the ashes.
Everything was so fresh when I blogged before, and taking a five-year break gave me the time to get my mind right and get over things. Today, heartstrings don’t get plucked with a text message or email from an old love. It’s just someone from the past reaching out. Some are good to hear from, some just feel like strangers.
I can’t tell if the surge in outreaches lately are genuine, are happening because I’m back blogging and on everyone’s radar, or if they are just feeling some kind of way because there’s someone new taking up the space in my heart and presence in my life.
The thing is, as far as I’m concerned, pulling a Phoenix is theoretically impossible when it comes to love.
I don’t reopen closed books, and I don’t re-read old chapters. Memories are enough. Over time, I tend to find that the strongest undertone of the relationship dictates whether the memory lane trips are good or bad.
Guys, If you’re going to try to revive an old love, or bring a relationship back from the ashes, know in advanced that the odds are exponentially stacked against you. The approach shouldn’t be slow or sheepish. You shouldn’t dip a toe into the water, only to yank it back and shiver alongside the water.
It’s in or out. Go hard or go home.
I can’t speak for all women, but I can speak for the countless friends and readers I’ve spoken to about relationships and the “Hail Mary” gestures. They need to be big, moving, and heavily weighed with the realest of intentions.
Come in with the big guns. Tell her what she means to you, and what you intend to do about that. Know before you go in exactly what you can promise and deliver on. Don’t be a little bitch about it, either.
I mean, I say that so harshly, but it’s the reality. If you’re going to pull some knight shit, you better be prepared to conquer. Yes, it’s scary, and no, you have no guarantees about the outcome. But if you’ve got real love on the line, you better be willing to get over all that and charge ahead.
Capturing someone’s heart is often an incredibly difficult task. For someone like me, it’s practically an impossibility. Few have survived the early gauntlet just to get into the gates to fight, survive, and seize my heart. Recapturing my heart, however, doesn’t happen. Once I’ve let go of love, the chapter closes, and there’s nothing available to be seized.