I lost my duck.
Not as in, “where did my duck go?” but as in a fox-killed-and-tried-to-carry-away-my- duck, lost my duck.
I was heart broken on Tuesday. It’s one of those moments were you just don’t want to believe your eyes but there it is. My mother thought I’d seriously injured myself, or been bitten by a snake, the way I returned to the house through my tears.
I had some help in letting a lot of my grief go the next day but today it was a little difficult because the other duck (pictured above further away from the camera) was standing at the fence calling out to her, hoping she’d just waddle back up the paddock again.
To be honest, losing Quackers has emphasized even more how important it is to love and be loved now. Not just in the stock-standard way but in the way that makes you feel good about being you.
Everyone loves in different ways, even though the feeling of love is universal.
When I was sitting on the Earth in the garden earlier today, keeping the other duck company, I thought about how much of my life has been spent trying to get people who cannot love me the way I want to be loved, to do just that.
Only, in trying to get them to conform to what I needed, the tables turned into me believe that their way of loving was the right way and maybe I really did need to “toughen up” or that I was “too nice.”
Because they always say “you can’t change other people, only yourself” – but what if you don’t actually need to change yourself. What if you’re not supposed to?
This is the way my musings have been leaning lately. Being away from everything, on a farm, in nature, with all of the important things under one roof, is very helpful for reevaluating.
I had an odd conversation with my ex this afternoon – I joked that a girl from work had her sights set on him, it’s obvious when a girl crushes on a guy via social media, and he said, “yeah, she asked me out a few months ago but I said no.” Then, of course, we rehashed that he was focusing on himself anyway, to have a break from all that, and the more times I hear that the less my heart glows for him.
To be clear I wasn’t jealous or fishing for information I was more taken aback by the realisation that hey, he doesn’t share much with me anymore.
He has been fine, it’s got nothing to do with him, it’s just me not putting my boundaries up as usual. He is lucky because he still gets the openhearted, loving version of me however I get the closed-off, friendly version that everyone else gets. It doesn’t make me feel special in anyway, other than when we sext, but afterwards it’s back to closed-off “not a priority” again and my heart doesn’t deserve my constant dragging of her through the metaphorical mud.
None of this is his fault, he has been upfront, the responsibility lies with me to set my boundaries and be true to how my heart feels. We may have a connection, we may have a love between us, but sometimes it might not be right. I should have the balls to say if he is going to treat me as a friend, then a friend is all he will get in return. Not vindictively but truthfully.
In the beginning of next month I will be going back to the old city and have asked him if he would like to hang out. He is keen but I am feeling as if I need to make sure he knows how I feel and that it’s highly likely I won’t be physical with him.
I need to stop opting for short-term gratification when I know my happiness lies in long-term compatibility.
I know in my heart I’m ready for love.