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“Don’t allow someone to come back into your life because you have history together. If your relationship went from something beautiful to chaos, let those memories go. Accept that the past will never be the future. Stop going back to what your heart is trying to heal from.” ~ Unknown

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Many of us have been there. A sliding door moment.

Do we take the door we know, the old familiar door, or do we open the door to the less familiar? Do we feel that intimate little twinge in our heart and gravitate toward that past longing, or do we close our eyes and allow ourselves to remember the end and the subsequent pain that delivered? And quietly with grace walk through the other door?

The past can be a confusing place. Something peculiar happens when we lose someone who was important to us. For a time, we see the past with our little rose-tinted glasses. Sure, we might be aware that it wasn’t all sunshine and roses, but for some inexplicable reason, all we seem to lament are the good bits. All we can see through our sadness and grief are the happy parts. The laughter. The warmth. The fun. The adventure. The closeness. The touches. The love. And maybe even the sex.

What we are blinded to at this time is the sh*tty stuff. The fights. The hurt. The distance. The coldness. The lack of touch. The lack of love. The lack of or unsatisfactory sex. The reasons things ended are clouded by our need to remind ourselves of the times things were good. It’s hard to let go of the past when we aren’t seeing the truth.

So when that past comes knocking, do you answer that door?

The past came knocking recently, or rather it was a light tap, but nonetheless, it was just loud enough for me to hear it. It was indirect, like knocking on your neighbour’s door loudly in the hope that you heard and looked out to see what the commotion was. A way to remind you they are still there without risking you slamming the door in their face. A quiet hello, remember me, I’m over here if you’d like to come to my door. A subtle invite without risking rejection. Like observing you and hoping you notice the observation. A little energetic move to perhaps gage where you’re at in life. A crafty little maneuver to see if your door is slightly ajar, or whether you are willing to reopen your door and invite them in. An action to garner a reaction.

This dance was a dance I partook in, early on, when I was wearing my rose-tinted glasses. My door opening and closing, like a busy department store every time he came knocking. It seems I didn’t quite know how to lock it, but I certainly do now. So when he decided to slide onto that dance floor again and try some of his old moves, I decided that as much as a part of me loved dancing with him in the past, I dance differently now. And even though there was an ever so slight twinge in my heart, I took those rose-tinted glasses off long ago. We can still hold love for someone and know they are not meant for us or that they are unhealthy for us.

Some people are meant to stay in your past. So what do you do if that past is rearing its head in your present? You need to look honestly at who you are now. Who they were, and have they grown? How you feel. Where are you both in life?

>> The past cannot come into your present and be part of your future if the circumstances of why it ended have not changed.

>> You may still hold some love, but neither of you are who you were in the past.

>> Loneliness is not a reason to reopen a door.

>> Have you taken off your rose-tinted glasses, or have they found their way back onto your face?

>> Have you done work on yourself? Have they done work on themselves?

>> Familiar is not always healthy.

>> Are you living in the present, or are you living in the past?

>> Are they tapping on your door for validation to boost their ego and fill some void because you used to fill that need in them?

Some may say these things are coincidental. They may say you read too much into it. My answer to that is: there’s always a reason. When a past love pops up in your present life, raising your awareness of their presence in a deliberate fashion, it’s not a coincidence. A coincidence would be bumping into them in a random town on a summer’s day. A coincidence is seeing them at a function where there are no mutual connections. And even then, are they coincidences, are they a stalker, or are they signs of some sort? Doing something you know will draw attention to their actions is not a coincidence. It’s tapping on your door, no matter how innocuous it may seem, to remind you that your past can pop into your present.

I had a choice to make. Do I engage and pull my door ajar, acknowledging their presence? Feeding into whatever it is they need. Or do I keep my door securely locked, knowing that reopening that door is likely to reinstate some sort of connection that will undoubtedly hurt me all over again? That will potentially reopen something that should not be reopened.

Unlike the past, I didn’t even pull my rose-tinted glasses out of their case. Instead, I used my new glasses, which I gained along my journey of healing and growth. These glasses have improved my vision immensely, and I view everything with a depth of clarity and understanding I didn’t previously have. They help me see things differently and more honestly. They give me the foresight to see that the past will repeat itself if I let it. That repeating cycles is not healthy, especially when the past person is in no position to bring me anything but breadcrumbs and broken promises. That the past was a lesson, and if it makes it’s way into the present, I didn’t learn a damn thing.

That particular door to the past remains closed. Will he come knocking again? There’s every chance he will, and I can’t control that. What I can control are my choices, and I choose to keep the door closed, not because I hold anger, or any bitterness, quite the opposite actually. I hold love, compassion, and kindness, and the most loving, compassionate and kind thing I can do for myself, and for him, is to keep the past on the other side of the door.

The moments of beauty and magic will remain in that piece of my heart where past love lives. And the chaos and pain get taken with the wind and released into another time.

A time that was lived and lost. A time that is long since gone.

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