Can I just say something? Like an earthquake, a tumultuous relationship often begins with a powerful, overwhelming force, filled with intense passion and chaos — that leaves destruction in its path. Then what? The aftermath unfolds, leaving us to stand in the middle of the mess that we helped to make, wondering how the fuck we got here. Despite the instability and confusion during the aftermath, it is also a period of reflection, recovery, and reinvention, if we choose to make it that.
So why does it take an entire explosion to force us to walk away from the things that no longer serve us? I don't think it has anything to do with self-worth or self-love, because I have all of those things. But like a lot of women, the truth is, when we are passionate about things — or people — we give our entire hearts, sometimes just to have it handed back to us.
After what I considered a "boom" with the Storm — where we reached this romantic point of no return and I thought things would progress — things got weird. I can't quite even put into words what it felt like or what it was because it was so bizarre. It was like he wanted me to know we were together, but also not together. But I think for him, what he considered "effort" and showing his feelings was not what I considered effort or a display of feelings. At all. But he would say little things here and there...
For example, after he had pulled back a little after our week-long "boom", he invited me to a private Saweetie show at the SoHo House in Downtown LA. He came over to pick me up and made a point of saying, with his stuffed nose, "Did you get me sick?"
"No. I feel great."
"Well, I'm not seeing anyone else, so it must be from you."
Now, I'm sorry, the Storm is 40-years-old, so in other words, just say what you want to say, without hinting around. Honestly, when he said this, it made me more suspicious than anything else, like he was trying to overcompensate and make a point of saying he was only with me, when in reality (come on we met on Raya), he was probably with other people...I saw that following count go up daily on Instagram.
Nonetheless, that night at the Saweetie show, we went to a pool bar beforehand, and we started playing pool with this guy from Sweden named Ilan and his girlfriend.
"Are you guys a couple?" one of them asked.
And in response, the Storm grabbed me and kissed me.
"There's going to be an explosion between you two," Ilan said to us.
And those words haunted me. An explosion in a good way? Or bad way? An explosion like a bomb? Or like fireworks? Would it be a destructive force tearing us apart, or a brilliant display illuminating our lives?
As time went on, I decided to completely pull back from the Storm because I felt so emotionally unfulfilled by it. The constant ups-and-downs of his moods, the whiplash of him being around and then disappearing...it all hurt too much because I felt way too deeply for him. And a part of my pride was done with the games.
I decided to not put all my eggs in one basket and started seeing someone else. And it was really hard because when you have a deep connection with someone, it kind of feels less electric with everyone else because you're trying so hard to get over it. We will call this person "the Star"...he was an actor and a nepo baby to one of the most famous families in the entertainment industry. For those of you who don’t know, a “nepo baby” is someone born into a highly influential, powerful, or famous family. The Star was the complete opposite of the Storm — despite having the same zodiac sign as him. He was really sweet, shy, consistent, and direct...opposed to the Storm who was wild, the life of the party, moody, and a peacock at times. The best way to describe the dichotomy of their personalities was Mr. Big vs. Aiden. The Storm was definitely my Mr. Big and the Star was Aiden.
The Star was exactly what I needed. But I can't deny, there were times I was with him, and I would think of the Storm. It wasn't that we didn't have a connection, but what I felt with the Storm was totally different. I could be so myself. It could be dead silent in the room, and I wouldn't feel awkward or uncomfortable or feel the urge to make conversation. Going cold turkey from the Storm made me feel like a recovering addict, craving a drink, but knowing water was better for me.
The Star and I first went out for Sushi in the Valley. It was a cute, little secluded spot. It was our first time meeting. He immediately made plans with me again. The second date was at the Peninsula Hotel in Beverly Hills, we got drinks and went back to my house. Our third date was a movie night at my place. Our fourth date was my favorite. His family owned a beach house right on the water in Malibu. He invited me there for a beach day. It was an overcast day. He showed me the house, then we went down to the beach, he brought towels and a bottle of wine. But because they were in the middle of selling the house, there were no wine glasses, so we drank straight from the bottle. We decided to take a walk along the beach, and he gave me the history behind each home and the people who lived in them. His family had owned the house since his grandfather — who was a very big actor many years ago.
"Let's go in the water," he said to me. But the idiot in me didn't think to bring a bathing suit to the beach, instead, all I had was my little black summer dress on.
"You can just go skinny dipping, " he suggested...and in my head, I was thinking, yeah, of course, he would love that. But there was no way in hell that I was stripping down to nothing in the middle of the afternoon at a public beach in Malibu. There was no one there, but still. He had neighbors. And he would be in his suit, and I would be naked? Absolutely not.
I was also hesitant to get into the water in general because it was freezing. But somehow he convinced me, and he took me by the hand and we ran into the water — him in his suit, me in my little black dress. In the middle of the day. In the Pacific Ocean. I don't know what was more exhilarating, the coldness that went deep down into my bones, or my growing feelings for the Star...that went deep down into my chest.
It was so cold, afterwards, we went to the front courtyard where there was an outdoor shower, and got in — still fully dressed. And the Star took my face in his palms, his green eyes looking into mine, and started kissing me in the outdoor shower.
The afternoon turned into evening, and we both had other plans. But mind you, I didn't have any clothes besides my wet dress so I took it off, and threw on my zip-up jacket I brought, and he gave me an extra pair of boxers he had in his bag. And that is how I drove back to Beverly Hills from Malibu.
At this point, the Storm and I were barely talking. In fact, he had texted me three times (once in a message, and two other times in a group message) and I'd ignored them all. I felt like he wanted me to do all the work, and I wasn't going to do anything because quite honestly, I didn't feel like I needed to. I wanted a person who was going to put effort into me and make me feel wanted. Not make me wonder.
But a part of me couldn't help but miss the Storm because, despite all of his chaotic moments, I couldn't help but fixate on the times when everything felt good. Where I felt understood. And where I felt like I understood him. After a period of not talking, he messaged me a random video on Instagram. Finally, I decided to call him.
I don't think the phone rang even once and he answered. He invited me over but I couldn't that night. But we ended up hanging out the next day. We went to Wally's in Beverly Hills.
That night, after Wally's, the Storm came over to my house. It was like we'd never stopped talking. We hung out in my room & laid on my bed, me upside down so that my feet were on the headboard, and he was facing me, his back against the pillow, while he sat on his computer and I worked on mine.
The only way to describe the feeling of being back together in my bedroom is the same feeling you have when you drink something warm on a cold day that heats up your insides. Or when you're outside and it's cold out, and the sun finally peaks through the clouds and touches your skin. The familiarity of it all. That night was our last night we ever saw each other. And it might have been the best night of all because it was like two really good friends just hanging out, talking, and being together.
The next day, the explosion that Ilan from the pool bar had predicted, had happened and we haven't spoken since. Both of us said things we couldn't take back, words that we didn't mean, but sometimes emotions take over and you just want to get the last word in. Too many unresolved emotions had risen to the surface. I hung up the phone on him. And that was that. But maybe that is just part of this story, whether it's the middle or the ending. And maybe, for now, it's for the best.
But, the Star and I kept seeing each other, and it seemed like things were moving along. The thing about the Star was, he never left me wondering. He was consistent, but never love bombed or was overly infatuated. The last time we hung out, he invited me to his parents’ house that he was staying at while they were out of town. We watched a movie in their home theater, where the walls were covered in movie posters of his dad's films.
Everything about the Star was perfect — he was a cute, sweet actor who was consistent, loved animals, and didn't make me wonder. The chemistry was there. Maybe he was my moment of calm after the storm. The Storm. But was I addicted to chaos? To the feeling of the ground shaking beneath my feet? Was I craving connection over consistency? A tropical island, beautiful and warm...but unable to avoid a hurricane. Over the last six months, the Storm and I had always found a way back to each other...after his ex-wife, after not talking, after moments where I was with other people. But had so much been said and done that nothing would be the same? Were there too many feelings involved by now and was it time to officially walk away? I knew I couldn't look back at this point. The Storm was behind me, and there was calm, stable ground ahead.
After an earthquake, when the aftershocks have subsided and the dust has settled, when do you truly know it's time to walk away from the aftermath? How do you recognize the point at which you stop trying to rebuild what's left and instead, start anew somewhere else? When do you accept that some foundations, no matter how sturdy they once seemed, are beyond repair and it's healthier to let them crumble? And in that period of seismic calm, when everything seems deceptively quiet, how do you discern whether it's a chance for healing or just the eye of the storm, waiting to unleash more chaos?
I had a therapist tell me that, "no one is going to know but you." She said, "People are going to try and tell you to end things, but you're going to end it when it's right for you. You'll know when that is."
I think that's true. I think that so many times we vent to the people around us, and they don't want to see us get hurt. But, the truth is, we always know when it's time to walk away. And when it is, it won't hurt, in fact it will be a relief. Even if you miss a person, you can still be relieved that things are either paused or ended. I also think there is hope that if you have enough faith, people who are meant to find their way back to each other always do, and if they aren't meant to, then God and the universe have something else in mind. Something even better.
The Storm was an earthquake. He came with the main event...the boom...followed by little aftershocks. And in the aftermath, I got to reflect on everything. All of the good times, all of the bad, and the falling out that led to where we are now: nothing. But that's okay. Because at the end of the day, I think the people who affect us the most, serve as our greatest muses. And even more so, our most important lessons. The storms of life teach us when to stand still and when to walk away, and who will be waiting for us at the end of it all.
Most importantly, sometimes they lead us to our greatest ventures.
You can choose to stand in the middle of the mess and wonder how you got swooped away in a storm, or you can get up, shake the dust from your feet, and figure out a way to turn the mess into art. Something beautiful A chance to reinvent yourself.
Xoxo,
Alexandria
Something to ponder: Have you ever had to walk away from something or someone you loved, even if you didn’t want to?
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