Whackadoodle

That’s what I want to be with you. 

It’s something I can’t define. I mean, what would you call someone you want to be more than just a friend, but not be in a relationship with? It’s probably an unhealthy thing to want of someone. Maybe because it screams temporary.

There are many parts of you I find endearing and attractive. You’re a joy to be around and your humor can be so fun and refreshing. You have a rough boyish side to you, and that makes it sweet when you do and say things that don’t reflect that side of you. You are a unique concoction of traits. 

But we are, ultimately, of different worlds. I know if we were to be together, our rough edges would clash sooner or later. 

We’d probably be only good for each other on cold nights, when we just want some warmth and someone to hold. What we can share is something just a little past the surface, nothing deeper than that. 

We are not meant to be a love story. 

It would probably be for the best if things stay the same. For us to stand at the same place, looking at each other from this distance, although my heart does ache just a little for more than this. 

But for adults who were traumatized as children, there is an important experience of learning that it is in fact, not normal. It’s good to not feel alone, to find people who get it and to not feel crazy, but the process of going through who you are and picking out the things you had accepted as normal that are definitely not is so important.

I’ll never forget the moment that I realized people have happy dreams, like frequently. Or the day I realized that most people sleep through the night like almost all of the time. Those were really sad moments, but they were really important too, because they made me understand that I am not crazy. Something bad happened, and it changed me.

my mother said to me recently.

Why hold onto all that? And I said,

Where can I put it down?”