I Think I Finally Understand What I Needed Today

I think today finally broke through something I’ve been trying to understand.

I’m tired.

Not just tired from work or school or everything going on around me. I’m tired of caring about people so deeply and then feeling like I have to figure out everything they aren’t saying.

I seem to be drawn toward people who are strong for everybody else. The quiet ones. The ones who don’t necessarily tell you when they’re hurting, worried, struggling, or even what they’re feeling at all. And because I care, I start paying attention to everything. I notice changes. I notice when they’re gone. I notice their expressions. I wonder what they’re thinking. I try to put all the little pieces together.

And it is exhausting.

I think some of this goes back to Mom and her heart issues. I loved her, I worried about her, and there were times when I felt like I had to guess how she was really doing. When you love somebody, not knowing is incredibly hard.

Maybe that’s why this thing with this old coworker has hit such a nerve in me.

Yesterday I finally felt peaceful about him. I really did. I felt like I could stop fighting everything inside myself and just trust that we were okay.

Then today happened.

The counselors weren’t even at school, and logically I know that means the old co-worker not being there doesn’t necessarily tell me anything. But emotionally, I was just done.

Done wondering.

Done listening for that familiar voice.

Done wondering which days he might be there.

Done wondering whether I’ll see him again.

Done wondering whether any of this matters to him the way it has mattered to me.

I got so angry that part of me thought, “Fine. He can leave my life again. Nothing new.”

And that thought hurt because I know the truth underneath it.

I care.

I wouldn’t be this angry if I didn’t.

I even thought about messaging him on Facebook today. For a moment I thought maybe I should just ask something and finally stop wondering.

But I couldn’t do it.

And I think I’m actually glad I couldn’t.

Because I’m married now. I’m not the same 25-year-old woman I was when Nathan and I worked together. My life is different. My responsibilities are different. My boundaries need to be different too.

I can care about someone from my past without chasing them.

I can be grateful that our paths crossed again without needing to know where the story goes.

I can smile when I see him and still go home to my own life.

I can hope he’s doing well without needing to find him on Facebook and ask.

And most importantly, I don’t have to carry an entire friendship by myself.

If Nathan wants to talk to me, he can talk.

If he wants to say hey, he can say hey.

If someday he wants us to know each other again as friends, he has a part to play in that too.

I don’t have to analyze every smile, hallway encounter, absence, schedule change, or silence trying to find an answer he hasn’t actually given me.

Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to learn here.

I love people deeply. I notice people. I worry about people. I want the people I care about to be okay.

That’s part of who I am.

But caring about someone doesn’t make me responsible for figuring them out.

And caring about someone doesn’t mean I have to chase them when they become quiet or disappear.

Maybe I can finally learn to say:

“I care about you. But if you want me to know what’s in your heart, you’re going to have to tell me. I can’t keep guessing.”

And maybe that’s where my peace needs to come from now.

Not from knowing whether Nathan will be there next week.

Not from knowing whether I’ll hear that familiar voice again.

Not even from knowing whether we’ll actually become friends again.

My peace has to come from knowing that I can care about someone without losing myself in the uncertainty of caring about them.

Today I’m angry. I’m disappointed. I’m emotional. And that’s okay.

Yesterday’s peace wasn’t fake just because today is hard.

Maybe I’m simply learning how to hold onto that peace when I don’t get the answers I want.