No longer as truthful as should be deserved, some names, places and events deliberately vague to protect identities that aren't mine

Friday, 1 March 2019

A bad day in a bad week each year.

What follows is for me, a thing I need to say somewhere, an annual cathartis that's become a form of ritual for me

I love you. I know I always will.  I know we both did many good and painful things to each other. I wish I could erase you from my life. 

That's not a thing I say lightly.  I fundamentally believe you are all the good and part parts of you story.  You can't undo one without the other.

But I would have never known you if I could.  Even knowing how unrecognisably different a person  that would make me.

The friends I wouldn't know, jobs and homes I wouldn't know.  How much less capable I'd think myself. I realise what I'd lose.

You entered my life for 3 months last year somehow and I destroyed friendships, I damaged others, I lost any chance I had with either of the guys I had something going with at the time.  The small bit of my psyche I'd started to rebuild in the time since I barely kept together.  Even now the cracks are still there, threatening to split any second.

I know you're bad for me. I know you destroy everything around you.  You found ways to strike at me even after we broke up, from miles away.  I also know know I've learnt to project many of my own demons onto you to keep myself alive. I hate everything about you, and yet.  I don't, and can't, fall out of love with people.  My brain doesn't work like that.  Once you get in, you're there, till the last star goes out.  I love you and would do whatever you asked, if you simply asked.  I hate myself for that.

I miss many other boys right now.  I make many mistakes and hurt many of those around me this time of year it seems.  But I hate remembering that we fell in love this time each year

One day, I might be lucky enough to be half the man I wanted to be for you, because that man was wanted to do incredible things in the world, believed that he could, and was willing to at least try, even of it might mean failing, or getting hurt.

The man I was when we first met could not even have dreamed of those things.

And it's a far cry from the man you ended up making me today.