Sometimes, when you’re trying to get over someone you loved, people will tell you just how awful the other person was, how unworthy of your care and affection. They will point out his flaws, exaggerating and embellishing them for your benefit. They will tell you that you’re out of his league, that it was his loss, not yours. They will try to get you to see that he wasn’t as wonderful as you thought – not so handsome, after all, or funny, or noble, or interesting, or kind. “He never deserved you,” they will say. “Forget about him.”
But sometimes, these people – as well-intentioned as they are – will be wrong. They did not know him as you did. Sometimes, the person you loved is – flawed, yes – but an undeniably beautiful soul. Sometimes, the person you loved really is just as funny and smart and good as you believed him to be – and no amount of slandering his character or manipulating your memories will undo this fact. Sometimes, in my opinion, it is better to accept that the relationship didn’t work out – not because he wasn’t worth your time, but because life is complicated and love involves free will. There’s no need to pretend that he wasn’t a great guy, if he really was. Sometimes it was his loss, yes – but also yours. This is how life sometimes goes.
Now, I recognize that, occasionally, in the thick of heartache, you might need something to propel yourself out of anguish and unstick yourself from despair. At these times, anger or indifference can be more mobilizing than sadness. Maybe thinking a bit more about the things that annoyed you, and a bit less about the things you adored, will help you to cultivate the detachment you need. And, certainly, there are cases in which the rose-colored glasses come off and glaring issues deserving careful reflection become apparent. We shouldn’t be blind to the signs that are there to warn us that something is wrong. Maybe we’ll realize that the relationship was much more of a mismatch than we thought. I’m not discounting these possibilities, nor am I saying that there is only one right way of moving on. People, and the circumstances of life, are too complex for that.
But I am saying that there are times when, try as you might to find some critical fault in the other person – some unequivocal sign that things would have never worked out – it just isn’t there. And when this happens, I think it’s nicer to say – “He’s a wonderful person; I really loved him; I hope he’s doing well” – than to diminish his beauty in order to make your loss easier to bear. I think it’s a more respectful way of remembering him, and more truthful, too.
It might take a while to find this state of mind, but once you do, you’re often met with a wistful sort of peace – a peace which acknowledges in a single breath both the sadness and the beauty of life. You loved a wonderful person, yes, and your life was richer for it. You’ve grieved the past and all the possibilities it contained. And now your story carries on. Sometimes, that’s all there is to say.