49 notes &
The One (by Cobo Copeland)
Today marks the second installment of my round of guest posts. Each post is centered on something the author has learned from relationships. This post is extra special because it comes from my own brother, Cobo.
Cobo doesn’t believe in social media, so leave your comments for him here on Mad to Love.
You can follow me on Twitter here.
As always, thank you so much for reading.
-Cory
I thought she was the one. I really did. I thought it was going to be me and her at that altar this coming April; me and her borrowing that cute house from the bank; me and her raising our son, Ebb (right?!), to be a funny, compassionate, non-phony independent voter. But, sadly, it is not.
I made some foolish decisions, and those decisions let her know I wasn’t THAT into her. But dang it if I wasn’t. I was way into her…more so than any girl I’ve ever met, much less dated. So she ran with what I gave her, and who could blame her? No girl that valuable is going to sit around, waiting for some hipster doofus to stop acting “cool” and as if he couldn’t care less. I was an idiot.
She got tired of waiting, and then she got over me. She told me it took a while, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Knowing that someone you cherish had to force themselves to move on from you is a pretty painful thing to accept. And I even kind of lived with it for a few years—until I heard she got engaged. A ton of weight was immediately added to my mind. There’s no way she goes through with it, I told myself. Did she move along so far that she’ll be out of my reach forever? I can’t buy that.
When you’re in love with someone, you can convince yourself of anything. I can change her mind; make her see that she made a mistake; make her see that I’m sorry. Problem with that is, this ain’t a movie or a sitcom. People make those heavy decisions, and they don’t back out of them easily—especially when so much is involved. But then I got to thinking. What other choice do I have? She is the one, I know it. I’m as sure of this as I am that George will one day win a post-humous Emmy. I refuse to call her the “one that got away”, mainly because that’s a Katie Perry song, but also because she’s not getting away from me. Not no way, not no how. I can’t let it happen.
You know what? I’m so psyched right now! I can’t help but feel that maybe some of you are in the same situation. Did you let that one get away too? Then what on earth are we waiting for?! Seriously…
End of the world scenario: I don’t want to be without her. Period. Revelation: you’re coming with me. We’re going to get in my mom’s car, blast Gavin DeGraw’s “Not Over You”, and freaking do something about it!
Who’s with me? S’go.
