Thankful

We had a talk today and it opened my eyes and helped me to feel more ready for some things. I'm not chasing a friendship with you. Im sitting squarely at roommates and thats ok. The holiday is hard for us, the whole family dynamic has changed rapidly. We said out loud that we are going to rely on each other to get through the holidays, and that took a weight off my mind. 

Then we sat together, and just sat. I didn't feel any tension and it sounds like you didn't either. It was calm and quiet. It felt like this is possible. Being around each other without any hopes or expectations, any fears or doubts. Just two people walking together toward the same goal.

Im thankful for that, and I am thankful for you.

Where we are

 I have to separate myself from this, but I'm not sure how. Every time we spend time together I am so happy because it feels like how I wanted it to be all these years. The fog is gone, the voice that lied to me only a murmur. I can just be with you. I can be in the moment and feel your presence and your light.

So how do I give that up now that I finally have it. I have to, of course. It sends my heart soaring forward to a place where we are friends. When I rub your back or scratch that itch, I think this is helping build a bridge, that we are building a bond to friendship. Then you remind me with brutal efficiency that this is not the case. We are NOT friends. We are roommates, and not to the "get along" kind. We are co livers.

It crushes me every time. You are firmly in the roommate phase and I keep trying to step forward, and I have to stop. I have to just be a roommate. But what about all the things that make me happy, that bring me joy. Do I have to lose them again. Spending time with you, putting lotion on your legs, hearing the gentle sigh when I find the itch or that sore spot with my thumb.

How can that be ok? How can I separate my joy from this drive to be friends. I don't want to be sad all the time, and alone. I've been there and it was a well so deep I almost drowned. So how do I grow if I'm forced back in that hole. 

Dresses

 So many dresses. I went through them to find one we have been looking for. I pulled out each one, made it ready to be worn with the sleeves right or turned right side out, then I held it up, imagined you in it, then set it aside.

I told you often I love you in dresses, and now I wonder if that's why you stopped wearing them. Why would you dress up for someone you do not feel comfortable with. I know how strong willed you are, and how little my opinion matters, but maybe it tipped a scale I wasn't aware of.

I have watched you dress and undress, change and try on so many clothes over the years. In this tiny little world I've been living in it is a time I have often treasured. I have to expand my world, and those moments are coming to an end.

I hope that there will come a time when you wear dresses again. 

I do still love you

I had to say it. But only once. I won't say it again. I do still love you. The look you gave was all that needed to be said. It looked like exasperation, and annoyance, and anger all wrapped in one quick glare. I do still love you, and my love for you has only grown. Now that I can see clearly, now that I'm actively fighting my bad thoughts, I see all the reasons why I loved you before and all the things you do now. So I still love you, that's not going to change. I know that might hurt to hear, which is why I won't say it again, but I had to let you know. 

I still love you. I whisper it each night before I fall asleep, and it screams in my head when I look at your face. 

Apologies

 I am so very sorry. Moment by moment, minute by minute, hour by hour, and day by day I say it a thousand times in my head and out loud. I say it on my walks, and while I work, and when I sit by myself. I know it doesn't change anything, but I have to say it. When I stop it begins to fill me up like a cup in a waterfall. I do not think the apologies will ever end, because I do not know how I could ever be sorry enough for all that I put you through. Every time we talk I find more bad I've done, more pain I've caused, and more reasons to apologize. 

At first I thought there might be a day when I could show you I have changed enough that you might begin to forgive me, to heal the wounds I've opened, and maybe one day I might even be able to forgive myself for my actions and inactions and blindness to it all. But now I cannot see that day. It feels like lifetimes will have to pass before those wounds might start to heal. 

If that is so, then I hope that I will find you in the next life and the next, and show my better self every time, and give my apologies in every life, until a day comes when we meet and all your wounds have turned to scars, and all the scars have faded away, and the me you meet is a person you can forgive, even if by then the why is long forgotten. I hope somewhere deep in my soul, when that forgiveness comes I will be able to receive it, and slowly stitch up the wounds I've created in myself. 

As I go, what I hope

I know it's a journey. It's not a straight line. There will be setbacks and turn arounds. I know that what I've gone through is only the beginning, and only a tiny fraction of what I've put you through over the years. 

You've been through all this already, you have run the marathon and made it to the finish line. You are off on a new journey now. I have just left the starting line and I know this will be a long road.

Knowing all that, I can still say this. I will love you forever. I will always see your beauty. You are the light that will cast a shadow on any relationships I may have in the future. The lens by which I will compare all things.

I know you will never believe me when I say it, but I hope one day when the person you trust, the person you feel safe with, tells you you are beautiful, you can finally see it.

Pull

You draw people. You have a magnetism that pulls people to you. It is incredibly strong. I have seen it for years. I've felt it always. This need to be near you, ever closer to you. Others feel it too.

Now that we are where we are, it is maddening. I put things between us (tables, counters, chairs) because I feel the tug in my chest. My head swivels back to you again and again. Every time, without fail, I end up next to you. So close I could place a hand on your lower back or plant a kiss on your forehead. I try to pull away, to push against the draw. It is like wading in wet cement. It takes everything in me to keep that bit of distance, to not reach out. 

I do not know if this pull will last forever. Its been going on for decades and has only grown in strength. My only hope is that your repulsion of me will keep creating the space I need to keep away.

Maybe one day in the far future, with enough distance and time, I will no longer feel the pull.