In the end, I’m just afraid that she’ll end up lonely or undeserved, or both. No one will ever be good enough company for her, not as good as me, not as understanding as I am, not as in love as I will always be. Maybe I’m just so full of myself, that’s what she probably thinks when I express myself like this.
Loneliness is not found by having no one to touch, but instead in letting yourself be touched just so you can confirm that that touch, it means nothing and feels even less. Loneliness is not something you create, it’s a sensation others allow you to experience, for they don’t get you, they just can’t read you. To make someone feel deserted, it’s not hard at all, people being merely themselves, they may make you feel null, oftentimes, and that’s how it’s always been with her. I once was one of those people as well, a normal guy, a boy that I fortunately stopped being from the day I looked at your aqueous tinted eyes in a different way, the “in love” way. Crowds, they’re there, you’re with them, perhaps you’re used to living like this, but promise me one only thing, do not confound your detachment with the illusion of independence. It’s like you quietly flee from love because you don’t know how to handle it; and you seemed to always be upset every time I would say it, when I touched this spot. Well, I only hope I’m wrong, and you’re as fine as you appear to be.
I’m not blind because I believe you’re flawless, I’m only wise enough to understand your flaws don’t bother me nor decrease the love I long for you. They are you, and I fell in love with you, not with some unflawed version of yourself. The inaccuracies we say and do, they only exist and take place so that we can see who’s around to correct us, who really cares enough to reach out and help us improve ourselves. Who’s apt to notice what the common friend misses, that’s what loving someone means. The others, they can’t be it, just as much as I can’t stop feeling it.
What hurts the most is being forced to leave just so you can respect her will, her wish to live untold and free to rise and fall on her own. When you love her so much that you perceive you’re the only good thing that could and should happen to her. But yet she can’t reach it and so your respect towards her, fomented by this endless love of yours, it makes you depart from her life. If she wants it like this, then I want her too much to deny her that, and so I’m gone, for good.
And in some way I hope she doesn’t come back, for that is a sign she is fine. She was right about wanting me out, she knew what she needed and seized it. I’d love if things worked like that, but most probably she is wrong and she will come to reason one day, while feeling hurt too, aching from the damage I so willfully tried to warn her would come to corrode her golden toned skin. No one can dodge life and live, forever, unloved and unbent, it can’t be like that, we are human. And that day, I won’t say a thing for she remembers just fine what I’ve already said, and still she was so sure of it being the most absurd thing she had ever listened. I was dumb for trying to teach her what she could only learn by herself, and I ruined the trust she had in me for it. I need her to not return to me, because for her to take it all back and be willing to believe me now, it means she’d be too low, bruised so badly that she finds reason in the truths I’ve told, and I don’t want it that way. Truths I wished myself that could somehow and someday turn into lies, but maybe they won’t, unfortunately, and sadly for her, and now I’m not proud to be right, not anymore. I want to be mistaken so that bliss can continue being her own reality, and her farther presence finds the means to keep contaminating my life for the longest of times.
That’s the hardest part and my only true fear. What is really disturbing, is me and my natural tendency to rightly foretell, predicting I’ll be seeing her alone while in company, misunderstood when she is clearly expressing her heart and soul; and she being herself is as clearer as it gets for me, but not for every other person. And assuming, that even if only by the slightest of chances, she’ll be forced to live a life where she won’t be able to be who she is, if she ultimately wants to be fully accepted and truly taken, that’s a thought I can hardly bear.