the hopeless romantic
Love is wicked.
That sounds dark, but damn love is kinda dark, ain’t it? As many times as I’ve thought I was in love, this last one was different. It blew every other nigga out the water, because for the first time, I think my significant other really saw me. At least, that’s how I felt. He made me feel like nobody else could make him feel the way I did, and the crazy part about that was for most of the relationship, I was emotionally, physically and mentally at my worst. I remember I used to think, if you thought my love at 15% capacity is good, wait until I’m actually okay and capable of loving you at 100%. Unfortunately, we never got there because I just kept dipping lower and lower, until I eventually got to zero and just couldn’t do it anymore.
He was a doer, a shower.. I was a talker and a feeler, so we were hardly ever on the same page about shit. I still think about him. I wonder if he’s okay and if his family’s good. He didn’t have many problems in life, at least that he shared with me, which made me feel like a basket case a lot of the time because I always had so many problems back then. But he still loved me, in spite of it all. And that’s what made me fall in love with him. I’d never had anyone love me in spite of the things I was ashamed of. He made me feel worthy in moments of sheer unworthiness and still held space for me to fall apart on those days that nothing could get me out my funk. He didn’t always have the right thing to say or an easy fix to my emotional rollercoaster but he knew how to let me be me, and love me regardless of what version I presented as that day. My core loved that man and always will for those acts of kindness.
Towards the end, it just got to be too much for me. I really wasn't built to lean on someone, or depend on someone to keep me happy. Despite his kindness lifting me in love, it also made me feel small and weak. Espeically as a woman raised by two immigrant parents who nearly died trying to get better for themselves. Allowing anyone to do that much for me, things that should’ve only been reserved for me to do for myself, made me feel subhuman. And instead of talking about it, I let myself get upset about something totally unrelated and chose to walk away quietly and abruptly.
Yes… I ghosted him.
And no, I am not proud of it but truthfully, something had to give. It was the only way out of our cycle. At some point, I realized that only I could save myself, despite him trying his best to save me from myself.
*cues You Can’t Save Me x SiR*
And don’t get me wrong, he was imperfect too and definitely had his flaws. I just think we both knew that between both of our baggage, when it was all said and done, we couldn’t go on like this anymore and someone had to cut the cord.
It’s been almost a year since we’ve spoken, and it still hurts. Maybe even more now, because i’m finally in a better place. Definitely still not at 100% but such a long way away from 15%, and sometimes I just wish he could see me now. I wonder how different shit would be between us. I wish we could hold space for each other— not for romantic reasons, but maybe just for closure and peace. I know everyone thinks closure is a “social construct” and it’s not real, but in our case, I’d like to think it’d only help not harm. But maybe I'm wrong, who knows? Maybe he hates me and never wants to speak to me again. I don’t know. He comes up a lot in my therapy sessions but I still don’t have answers to a lot of things only he could shed light on. Sometimes I don’t want any answers and I just want to hold on to the memories. He meant a lot to me and I often wonder if he knows that.
