2.19.2024

You are no longer mine. However, I am still profoundly yours.

Two came before you, but you will be my last. For I fear I will not survive another loss.

The first, a whirlwind love affair, quick and ever-consuming. She came out of thin air, a creation made to drag me out of the comfort of my shell. Her laugh still raddles in my skull from time to time. The imagery of a note that says, “You looked good in homeroom today. Lower dugout after school?” flashes through my mind each January when I allow myself to remember. She knew who I could love before I knew for myself. I understood what I was running toward before I found her on that April morning, blood still pooling from her wrists. While her friends all loudly mourned her, I secretly promised her I would live a life deserving of her.  You would have liked her, I’m sure of it.

The second was a slow burn; he went away a lot, and I stood by for years, waiting for him to return each time. He told me once that I was the best person he had ever met, and I promised him I would do my best to be that person for the rest of time. He had been let down by those who were supposed to love him most for his entire life, and I wanted to give him something different. Yet, when I needed him most, he told me my life was too complicated; this shoved me back into the shell I had left just years before. He hurt me a lot, not physically, but in the words he used against me and all of the girls who would give him what he wanted. I was never quite good enough for him to stick around. There was always going to be a girl who was prettier, skinnier, and wasn’t such a prude. He wasn’t all bad, though; there were these moments when he was the softest to me anyone had ever been. You would have despised him, I’m sure of it.

Then there was you. I broke all of my rules for you. Anyone else would have been dropped the moment they brought me home instead of taking me on a date that first night. I guess that’s why they say you know when you know—drunk on the taste of your lips and the words that would flow from them. The sex was great, but I could have gone without to spend a bit more time with you. The night before you left, I begged you to ask me to stay the night in my mind. Instead of saying something, I walked inside, let the clothes melt off of me, and sobbed in the shower until the water ran cold. I told myself I had to do everything I could to keep you. You had me. You still do.

Intoxicated on the dreams of little feet pitter-pattering on the floor around us as you make breakfast. Planning what snacks I’d bring to soccer practice that week. Envisioning what our home may look like, you clean and calm, me messy and wild. How would you balance me as a mother, calming my nerves and reminding me that things would be different because we would be different parents? I was looking for jobs and trying to get myself together to chase the future I saw within you. The worst part is that my dreams still torment me with the what-ifs of everything. I try not to sleep much anymore.

When I told friends I had met my match, they told me I was insane to think someone like you would ever work with someone as broken as me. I would have to spend a life keeping myself in line so you wouldn’t leave me. “As soon as you wake up crying for the third night in a row, he’ll run for the hills.” There was no way you would stick around once you discovered how hard I am to love. So, I kept you at arm’s length. If I managed to keep you away from my mind’s dark and twisted corners, you could stay in my orbit.

So here is my promise to you. I promise to be the friend you’ve always needed until the end of your days. I pledge to prepare you for her, the woman you deserve, and bow out gracefully when she arrives. If you let me, I will push you to fight for what you deserve and speak your mind without fear of rejection. Your mind is a garden to some of the most profound thoughts I have ever heard. You deserve to be heard. You deserve not to allow people to walk all over you. If you let me, I will bark at anyone who tries to take advantage of you.

You ignited a flame in me that refuses to be extinguished. You gave me a taste of hope that I’d never known before, but I’d like you to take it back. Please, I beg of you. Hope is the dagger that has stabbed me in the heart one too many times, and I fear the thread I hold will no longer mend my wounds.

Come to me when you need an ounce of nurturing or love, but do not ask the same of me because we have two different definitions, and yours will only make the flame that I’m so desperately trying to douse burn all that much brighter. Because while my silence helped you to move on, I was yearning for your arms to save me from my mind.

I know one day you will be a lesson I tell my grandchildren about. “Don’t let the good ones slip through your fingers. Let them see your dark bits and decide for themselves,” I’ll say, sitting in my rocking chair and petting an orange cat. I will tell them to take leaps of faith and trust in the good of others. They will see love all around them and know the good kind of love is real and true. Of course, they will have me to fall back on if things don’t work out. But maybe that’s my problem. I’ve only ever had myself to fall back on, and perhaps that made me too cynical.

Perhaps if I create a beautiful life, all of the ache will have been worth it.