There is a powerful song by Rahsaan Patterson, called, “Sometimes You Gotta Let Go.” (“I was a fool before, I walked away. Far from a loving that, caused me pain, caused me pain…”)
Sometimes, let go, we must.
We hold on to you. Go the extra mile for you. Some of us just do, because of who we are.
When there is an argument we try to remove the anger, and work the problem from a different angle. Putting the problem, not on any one in particular, while creating an angle of a team blame effort, rather than putting the blame on you. We propose a solution on how to avoid this in the future.
We say the words you are too proud to say, “I love you.”
We keep giving, not expecting to receive. In the back of our minds, we think some reciprocation of our efforts would provide us with some sort of encouragement. No matter what, we do not hold back. We bend over backwards; while defending you within ourselves, hoping you will come around and be the person you need to be, in order to help save this relationship.
When your temperament is fragile, we stay calm just to keep the peace.
We read self help books for improvement. We objectively evaluate our actions. We do everything in our power to avoid ending the relationship. We allow your distant behavior, without defense, so that we can fight for the relationship another day.
All you do is you, and what you want to do. It does not really matter what we do; or how hard we try, nor how many tears we shed, and the pain we feel.
It was inevitable. Another argumental fight ensues. This is it.
“Sometimes, (you) gotta let go.”
I have gone above and beyond for you. I have gone the distance in believing in you. I have taken the blame, apologized when it was not my fault, to show a better way, of how a relationship could be. I tried not holding you liable for not doing your part. You want someone to do all the work you will not do, and you do not dare to try.
You resort to the one thing you have left to use. The blame game. Rather than looking at you, I am your scape goat. You blame me for the arguments. You refuse to see, how I put myself on the cross in an attempt to save us.
You cannot walk away with your conscience pervading you with guilt, bringing to you what you should have done and didn’t; and what you could have done, but wouldn’t. You cannot bear knowing it was your fault. Yet, not everything was your fault, but you defaulted on not even trying, because you were being too self righteous, too proud, self centered and stubborn.
You are walking away with a story full of illusion, listing my supposed wrong doings, rather than facing your nothingness. It will not happen right now, and maybe not in the near future; but you just may grow up, become a little wiser, and then, you will come to know.
You will think about me and begin to see. You will admit that what I was to you was true, real and in your best interest. You will see I loved you, in spite of you. You will then realize you were too full of yourself to see.
Instead, you forced me to make the tough decision of letting you go.
Should you not reflect on these things, oh well! My best was simply not enough for you. Where this would normally challenge my feelings in concluding this matter, with the fact that I came up short, despite my best efforts— in your case I will make an exception. Everything is not for everybody and this includes me. My everything is not for everybody. Either way, I had to let you go. My decision was made in peace and with a clear conscience.
I want to love the one who sees me for me. I am walking away from you knowing he/she is out there somewhere. Letting you go might expedite a knocking at my heart.
I had to let you go, in order for me to be better and to be the person I am designed to be. Not only for me, but also for the one, who will not only totally get (understand) me, but love me for me. I will be more than enough.
“Sometimes you gotta let go.”