A Memoir

I finally mustered the courage to tell you that I still love you, that I see myself with you long-term, that I'm sorry for leaving even though I had my reasons each time, and that there is no one I would rather be with than you. In reply, you told me all the sweetest things a girl could ever want her love interest to say. Shortly after sending paragraphs to one another about how our feelings remained for each other, a week or two later, I was over at your house. I was under the impression that we were really going to watch a movie, but things became heated. I won't lie; I wanted all that you did in that moment, but had I known it would end up like this, I would have never gone through with anything.

You used me. I feel so used by the one person I thought my body would be safe with. The one person who I thought wouldn't treat me differently no matter what. The one person I thought I could trust because it's you. You were just expressing your feelings for me.

You told me how you search for me in everyone you date. You said you'd always love me. You've even stated how you've connected and bonded with me on a spiritual level, and you hate that I took my love from you. Weren't you just telling me that? Did you mean any of it?

“The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own."

No one but myself will know the hurt, anger, and violence it took for me to become the calm and peaceful person I am today.

This love is new, not familiar or deja vu. I’m learning you. I’m learning your mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical needs. I want you to feel secure with me. I want to be the first person who isn’t family to know when something goes wrong, and you’re telling me because you know I can ease your mind. The ways I want you aren’t sexual.

Sex is great, but I want to challenge the world with you. Sit with you on your most difficult days. I want to love you more when it seems like you’ve been defeated. I want to let you know that it is okay to feel. It is okay to feel to heal.

I want you to lay on my chest and hear how my heart beats. How it beats for you and all the things and people I love. I want you to know you’re safe. I’m your home and comfort zone. I want you to know it's okay to be emotional, and you can be emotional around me.

Having to heal without closure is like, this is extreme, but this is how it feels; it’s like having AIDS and taking medicine to control it, when you know there’s a cure, but you’ll never be able to get it. It’s selfish on the other person's behalf. You learn to cope first, heal from the emotional trauma, and move on. It’s so selfish, but nonetheless, you develop an, "it is what it is" mindset. It’s a wound that’ll leave a scar, and occasionally leave you asking yourself, “why?”