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As much as It pains me to admit this to myself, and as much as I hate to write this out loud, you made me feel things that I never knew existed.
I’ve always wondered why people need to feel connected to others. Why do they need to feel loved and validated? Even existential philosophers believe that humans need that relatedness, they strive to feel loved and cared for. They believe that humans are aware of the fact that they are simply finite, and love gives their lives meaning, and within that meaning we simply find joy in life. “It’s the human nature” they say. But not for me, and you knew it. I’ll spare you the details of my grim upbringing, I’ll spare you the painful nights where I cried myself to sleep with bruises all over my body. Nights where I hoped that someone will simply care again. I’ll spare you my pain. The point is that I never felt that need for relatedness, I never needed anyone to care. I made sure that I survive and leave by myself. I was never looking for someone to be there, or wanted. For the first 22 years of my life, I never had an interest in letting anyone get close to me. I survived by pushing people away.
Until I met you. I still remember the night we met. How scared I was to even meet you. How I was terrified of finally meeting the man I’ve been talking to for months. You somehow made me question the meaning of my life. You made me question my strive to survive, and made me (for the first time in my life) want to live. I remember how soft your voice was. How assuring you were. You were so gentle, loving, caring. You shared stories about your life, you shared your passions with me. You were surprised to meet a person as emotionally cold as me. Yet somehow you made me trust you. You made me open up. And suddenly, it finally made sense. You loving me, reminded me of a person who once loved me years and years ago. You reminded me of The person who brought me up and showed me what love can be. Of the person who traveled the world, and told me stories about people from the places he traveled to. I believe that this person is somewhere out there, wandering through the stars and the universe, watching over me. I told him about you. About how much I loved you. I told him that I finally understood that being loved is not about myself, it’s about letting someone close enough to see where the pain is. To let them heal you, and within that, healing them as well.
I told the stars about you, and they cried with me the night you decided to leave.
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