Thoughts and Constellations

When I was sixteen, I fell in love with the idea of love and this blindly led me to someone who was not even worth a single glance never mind months of my time but he told me all the sweet things I wanted to hear and I stuck around for the false sense of validation. Months passed and it was too late before I realised the love I was drinking from was laced with shards of selfishness and manipulation. He didn’t love me; he loved the way my naive submissiveness fed his ego. I let him in and he locked the doors and tried to repaint my once yellow walls to shades that led to me not being able to recognise my own shadow. When I was eighteen, rebuilt and glowing once again, I promised myself I would never let my longing to be loved lead to heartbreak again. I built walls ten foot high that ran for miles and miles and kept any potential love interest at arms length, afraid to suffer again. But then I met a boy who took his time to earn my trust. We started out as friends; exchanging messages for hours at a time and before we knew it, months had passed and although unspoken, we both thought of each other as a safe place. We shared similar dreams. Goals. Music. Perspectives. I thought I was lucky; one of those people who meet their soul mate while young. I was led to believe, after a year, that he might just be the one I marry. I was exploding with excitement and hopes for our potential. I thought I could share anything with him but when I did- when I shared the most important part of my heart he had ever come to hear, he heard me but he didn’t listen and ran for the hills. Now, three months before my twenty first birthday, I look back on these past two heartbreaks with a scarred heart full to the brim with gratefulness. I am content and joyous because what I did not realise during these dark times is that life was preparing me for the love of my life. The introduction of seemingly perfect matches was to show me that the person I would marry will be unlike any pre-planned criteria I had in my head and that he would cradle my heart so carefully it would make me feel re-born again. Indeed, he will not be perfect but I will love the imperfect parts of him a little extra and wrestle him to the bed with loving arms and kisses when he dwells on them. He does not have either the hair nor eyes younger me pictured but they have grown to become my favourite colours. He loves me both selflessly and unconditionally and never expects a single kiss in return- although I do so anyway. He fills my glass before his own and insists on giving me his jacket when I am too stubborn to bring my own. He can tell when I am sad without me breathing a single word. He takes on my pain when I am struggling and goes out of his way to make me laugh and show me that he is on my team. He is gentle and patient, kind and strong willed- hilarious and crazy. But most importantly of all, he accepts me for who I am. He knows all my fears, worries, dreams, struggles, likes and dislikes and chooses to love me anyway. He remembers small details anyone else would forget. Sometimes I look at him in complete awe and he looks back with so much love in his eyes it genuinely chokes me and I have to take a moment before talking or else I will be pushed to tears. I did not ask him to prove to me that loving again would be worth it but he took it upon himself to do so without asking permission. To this day, he continues to go out of his way to remind me that I am more than what I have grown up to believe and because of him, I am confident what it means to love and be loved in equal measures and I can say, hand on heart, that I have never experienced such peace- like that moment when you first dive under water and everything silences; it just stops. Time escapes. Worries wash away. There is a warmth that cannot be explained. I, myself, have never been a religious person but each night before I sleep, I find myself desperately praying for as many years as possible so that I can continue loving this man exactly the way he deserves. And then I sleep, soundly, without a single worry about the next life knowing we will always make our way back to one another in the end.

“Wait for someone who, through their actions, shows you that to be vulnerable is a beautiful thing. I know. I know- that all your life you have shyed away from allowing yourself to feel in extremes in fear of puncturing your heart but when it comes to the person you will marry, I promise you that letting them see all facets will only enable them to love you deeper. Encased in such security, you will find that your pent up emotions will flow like wind blows and whether your tears are a consequence of joy or sadness, your safety net will be on their knees ready to catch it all regardless. Wait for that- the person who will hold your hand a little tighter when they can sense you are fearful. The one who will take their time to kiss your forehead when they see your eyes waver like black clouds close to a downpour. Someone who will hold you closer when your silence sings songs of sadness. The person worth waiting for will feel the depths of your heart as deeply as if it was their own. Your soul may be tired, my love but I must ask you to wait just a little while longer and resist settling for anyone who does not stay to love you harder in times of great distress.”

my book

“How beautiful to find a heart that loves you, without asking you for anything, but to be okay.”

“I can be someone’s and still be my own.”

“I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.”

“I enjoy controlled loneliness. I like wandering around the city alone. I’m not afraid of coming back to an empty flat and lying down in an empty bed. I’m afraid of having no one to miss, of having no one to love.”

i am unaffected by “your flaws are beautiful” rhetoric. i appreciate the care behind it; that a person wanted me to feel better enough they’d lie to me and try to deny me access to ugly. 

So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me because I, too, am fluent in silence.

I know you can swim. But, boy, I’ll drown you in poetry.

But I don’t want small talk. Text me, and without saying hello, tell me why you got so angry at your sister this morning. Tell me why you have a scar shaped like Europe on the left side of your neck. Send me paragraphs about the time you spent at your grandmother’s house that one summer. Call me when I’m half asleep and tell me why you believe in God. Tell me about the first time you saw your dad cry. Go on for hours about things that may not seem important because I promise that I’ll be hanging on to every word you say. Tell me everything. I don’t want someone who just talks about the weather.

If you take the risk and open your heart to me, I will keep it safe.