I'm Trying To Grow From This...Dear P,
Not a day passes when I don’t think of you. Your presence, your warm smile, and sometimes I think of you so much until nothing is left of you, except for your eyes. Your lovely eyes. I watch you slowly disappear from existence the same way that you appeared, the same way I grew to love you is the same way I am learning to let you go.
I feel this emptiness inside, like a part of me is gone. Like you became a part of me. But I know that emptiness has nothing to do with you. It was there long before I met you. I’m just learning to recognize it again.
I look it in the face, and I feel it in my heart, the way it was there as a teen, as a child. I long for you to desperately fill it, the same way I held myself and wished with all my might that someone would save me from myself. I know that you’ve gone on your own journey, and you’ve left me here to walk this desert alone. I wish I could take your hand, I wish that we could walk alongside each other. We don’t even have to constantly be happy, like our idealizing selves would have liked.
When you left me, I admitted to you that I didn’t even care about whether or not we were soulmates anymore, that I just wanted to be with you. It became less about perfection and it became more about you and I. It became more about courage. But between you and I, perhaps I was the most afraid. I swallowed you with love, cried at the thought of losing you, because these days, it was starting to feel like everything just goes away... I clung at your shirt collar, gasping for air and demanding that you breathe it into my lungs for me. You were scared, confused. I demanded it all in the name of love.
Now, when my heart aches, grabs for you, I gently hold it. I look inside myself and ask, “What’s wrong? What is it that you need?” The child inside wants to grab for you. I feel a pull in my chest, but I just kneel and listen. Carefully.
I don’t want to be selfish anymore.
It’s not any easier. I still wish that I could just pick up the phone and call you. And when I feel this loss of a friend, I feel the loss of my Dad, too. How I wish I could just pick up the phone and call him. How my body still screams silently when I hear “All My Loving,” by the Beatles, because it used to be his ring tone. These things reflect back at me, burst through me like dark sunlight, and I stand in the chasm, in this hall of mirrors reflecting mirrors, into darkness and infinity.
Sometimes I wish it were as easy as blaming you, hating you, but I still love you with everything I have. I want you to be happy more than anything. And I want to succeed, too. I want to recreate myself, so that next time I have such a beautiful opportunity, such a kindhearted, flawed partner such as you, I won’t crush him like snow in my hands. I will appreciate him, see him, and I will let myself be vulnerable enough so that he could see me, too. I know that I will still make mistakes. I know that I will still be imperfect.
I sit with my loss and sadness every night, every morning, throughout the day, and I miss you. I miss everything about you.
I wish deep down that I will be with you again. I hope our paths cross, that it was really meant to be, and that we will both come out stronger. I know that this will be a blessing in disguise. I already feel my broken heart, and I know that it’s broken open. My being this low opens my heart and mind to possibility.
It’s just... I just... need to feel it. All of it.
I still love you.