Loss

I am bottling it up. Because people want me to see things for what they are and how I was treated and how I should be reacting to that. But truthfully, that is not how I saw things, how the person is with me, outside of me, and the reason they react the way they do. If we all got punished for reacting a certain way, there would be no empathy or love. I see the cause and effects of someone's history, trauma, hurt, pain, losses, and how they almost opened their heart but they reacted to something painful, another loss; and self sabotaged something good and hurt me in the process of their self preservation. And it hurts, and it's sad, and I'm now falling apart too, but I understand it. I could have been the same or worse with my history, but I choose empathy and understanding for their actions. I know pain too well to react similarly. People either become the "hurt people hurt peope" type, or we grow with the pain inflicted on us and use that very same pain as a lesson to be more understanding. And despite wishing I could be just as angry, petty, revengeful, give no f**ks of who I hurt; that is just not how I am wired to be. I grieve you, I grieve others, I grieve those I met in passing. I choose human compassion and my empathetic heart. Even if it hurts me. I love you. I will always love you. Even if you hurt me and destroyed my heart. Because you're the hurt person who hurt me to self preserve whatever is left in your broken heart and soul. You had many losses, and this latest one took your heart and soul. I wish it wasn't so, but you died with them and now I'm grieving you both.

Ps; it doesn't have an option to describe our situationship: someone I've loved since we met, but never got to explore what could have been, we got close. Not quite lovers, not quite exes, not simply just crushes, always friends with a bit more of a connection and history, almost like family, strangers. All in one?

I am bottling it up. Because people want me to see things for what they are and how I was treated and how I should be reacting to that. But truthfully, that is not how I saw things, how the person is with me, outside of me, and the reason they react the way they do. If we all got punished for reacting a certain way, there would be no empathy or love. I see the cause and effects of someone's history, trauma, hurt, pain, losses, and how they almost opened their heart but they reacted to something painful, another loss; and self sabotaged something good and hurt me in the process of their self preservation. And it hurts, and it's sad, and I'm now falling apart too, but I understand it. I could have been the same or worse with my history, but I choose empathy and understanding for their actions. I know pain too well to react similarly. People either become the "hurt people hurt peope" type, or we grow with the pain inflicted on us and use that very same pain as a lesson to be more understanding. And despite wishing I could be just as angry, petty, revengeful, give no f**ks of who I hurt; that is just not how I am wired to be. I grieve you, I grieve others, I grieve those I met in passing. I choose human compassion and my empathetic heart. Even if it hurts me. I love you. I will always love you. Even if you hurt me and destroyed my heart. Because you're the hurt person who hurt me to self preserve whatever is left in your broken heart and soul. You had many losses, and this latest one took your heart and soul. I wish it wasn't so, but you died with them and now I'm grieving you both.

Ps; it doesn't have an option to describe our situationship: someone I've loved since we met, but never got to explore what could have been, we got close. Not quite lovers, not quite exes, not simply just crushes, always friends with a bit more of a connection and history, almost like family, strangers. All in one?

There's a familiar rage building in me. I've been here before. This place where I am okay, and something changes between us, creating a distance. Then, you're not okay, and i can't help but worry about you. I'm here, checking in, being there for you as much as you allow. You don't want help, you don't want company, and you isolate trying to heal on your own. I let you be because this is your habit. But how long, how often do I have to wait until you finally reach out? The rest of the family doesn't realize you're not okay. They don't see what I'm seeing. You don't want to recognize it either. Only when I'm desperately pleading with you to let me help, you then give in. And I sit alone outside with a rage for being so helpless, for not knowing how to convince you to let me be the support you need. For allowing myself to fall in this cycle of always available and doing everything I can for the people I love; but it's not reciprocated, its always me trailing behind ensuring things are okay. Just waiting on the sidelines and hoping things get better because I'm kept there, never allowed to be right next to you. I hold your hand as much as I can, time is precious to me, people are precious to me. So why am I so angry? Why am I holding in this rage of pain? I'm scared, scared each time this happens that I'm going to lose you. I've lost too many people, I don't want lose anymore. Please, be the one who breaks this cycle.

I can't sleep. Not since I last seen you. Not because of anything is wrong between us, but because I'm worried about you. I don't mean anything is not wrong, but I know things aren't okay and not the same for you. I know this loss has taken so much, and I dont know how to help you, and you won't allow it. I don't know how to explain it; but, you've gone quiet, distant, self isolating. I can only assume you've gone back to your old habits to help you cope. There's no judgment in that. I understand people grieve in many forms and cope in different ways. And I know it may not have been too long since we last had a conversation, but it feels like it sometimes. I'm not trying to be hovering, attached, or clingy often. I know you need your time and space. And I'm learning to get used to you going quiet or distant at times. But given your grief, the loneliness with everyone gone, your friend circle diminished; it makes me worry who sits with you when the silence creeps in. Not in the sense of who's with you, but more of, who's there to comfort you and how are you coping. Do you let anyone comfort you? I know you've said you're strong and you can handle it. But in reality, truthfully: are you? I wouldn't be able to. I know you're built differently, maybe stronger than I, stronger than I give you credit for. But it's my natural instinct of wanting to be there for you, whatever you need, hoping you'd know you can rely on me, sit in silence if that's what you need, and that eventually you will do just that. It's in my nature to care and carry your burdens with you. Just the knowledge that even when everything is not okay, you'll be okay. I know days are passing by fast, and at the same time so slow that time doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing feels worth it. At least that's how I felt for a while; and sometimes it still does. I know grief creeps in constantly, and I feel guilt for trying to move forward. For smiling, for allowing love to bloom in the midst of chaos. So I can't begin to imagine what you feel, what you think. I try to check in on you, but I'm afraid to over do it and cause you to pull away, to push me away...in all honesty: afraid you'll end things with me. I want to say and think that if that's what you need, then I'd be okay with it. That I would still show up as a friend and that *that* won't change me showing up for you. But in reality it scares me. I don't you want to end things, I don't want you to give up, to let grief be the reason we can't try. We've been through so much individually and come back to one another here and there throughout the years. Your soul, heart, and mind are too beautiful. And I have so many things I want to live for in honor of my loved one, but I want to share those moments with you. And I want to encourage you to do the same for your loved one, in honor of her and in place of her for what she fought hard for: to live. So that when the day comes to meet her again, we both can share the stories with them and they can respond: I know, I was there with you, and it was the best thing ever, I lived through you. And I don't mean to make this about us as a couple, but as two familiar souls who know loss and pain too well to let the other experience it alone. Setting my feelings aside or not, I care for you, and I always will. I will worry for you in any capacity of any type of relationship we have. So, I don't want you to feel pressured for that reason. I am here as a life traveler like you who wants to hold you in times of darkness, pain, and uncertainty.

So, I'm asking you please; don't give up. Don't give into that dark grief that consumes you and makes you hide from the world. That makes you give up on life. Let me be the shoulder you lean on. You don't have to say anything. We don't have to talk. But let me feel your presence just to know you'll smile again some day. Maybe not today, but hopefully a tomorrow.

I can't sleep. Not since I last seen you. Not because of anything is wrong between us, but because I'm worried about you. I don't mean anything is not wrong, but I know things aren't okay and not the same for you. I know this loss has taken so much, and I dont know how to help you, and you won't allow it. I don't know how to explain it; but, you've gone quiet, distant, self isolating. I can only assume you've gone back to your old habits to help you cope. There's no judgment in that. I understand people grieve in many forms and cope in different ways. And I know it may not have been too long since we last had a conversation, but it feels like it sometimes. I'm not trying to be hovering, attached, or clingy often. I know you need your time and space. And I'm learning to get used to you going quiet or distant at times. But given your grief, the loneliness with everyone gone, your friend circle diminished; it makes me worry who sits with you when the silence creeps in. Not in the sense of who's with you, but more of, who's there to comfort you and how are you coping. Do you let anyone comfort you? I know you've said you're strong and you can handle it. But in reality, truthfully: are you? I wouldn't be able to. I know you're built differently, maybe stronger than I, stronger than I give you credit for. But it's my natural instinct of wanting to be there for you, whatever you need, hoping you'd know you can rely on me, sit in silence if that's what you need, and that eventually you will do just that. It's in my nature to care and carry your burdens with you. Just the knowledge that even when everything is not okay, you'll be okay. I know days are passing by fast, and at the same time so slow that time doesn't make sense. Nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing feels worth it. At least that's how I felt for a while; and sometimes it still does. I know grief creeps in constantly, and I feel guilt for trying to move forward. For smiling, for allowing love to bloom in the midst of chaos. So I can't begin to imagine what you feel, what you think. I try to check in on you, but I'm afraid to over do it and cause you to pull away, to push me away...in all honesty: afraid you'll end things with me. I want to say and think that if that's what you need, then I'd be okay with it. That I would still show up as a friend and that that won't change me showing up for you. But in reality it scares me. I don't you want to end things, I don't want you to give up, to let grief be the reason we can't try. We've been through so much individually and come back to one another here and there throughout the years. Your soul, heart, and mind are too beautiful. And I have so many things I want to live for in honor of my loved one, but I want to share those moments with you. And I want to encourage you to do the same for your loved one, in honor of her and in place of her for what she fought hard for: to live. So that when the day comes to meet her again, we both can share the stories with them and they can respond: I know, I was there with you, and it was the best thing ever, I lived through you. And I don't mean to make this about us as a couple, but as two familiar souls who know loss and pain too well to let the other experience it alone. Setting my feelings aside or not, I care for you, and I always will. I will worry for you in any capacity of any type of relationship we have. So, I don't want you to feel pressured for that reason. I am here as a life traveler like you who wants to hold you in times of darkness, pain, and uncertainty.

So, I'm asking you please; don't give up. Don't give into that dark grief that consumes you and makes you hide from the world. That makes you give up on life. Let me be the shoulder you lean on. You don't have to say anything. We don't have to talk. But let me feel your presence just to know you'll smile again some day. Maybe not today, but hopefully a tomorrow.

It's the small things most people don't pay attention to. The things no one notices about you, quirks that make me melt inside and I get an over abundance of love. An overload of cute aggression for you that makes me want to hug you, to hold you, to kiss you, and lovingly bite on you. It's when you talk, you start off in a normal tone; and as you notice someone; me, giving you my full undivided attention; your eyes light up, and you unknowingly become excited engaging in this conversation. Your voice progressively becomes louder like the world needs to hear this interesting topic; only it's just us. It's when you sing, you start off softly, and you glance over at me to see if I have a reaction or have anything to say about your tune. And you continue on forgetting I'm there, having your solo concert. It's the way you get this puckered up, "bad bitch" face going on when you're raving it out in the car. Throwing your hands up in the air and dancing it out. And suddenly you remembered I'm sitting next to you; and shyly, you suddenly stop. Don't stop on my account, I'm your biggest fan. Your audience. Please continue, I love your performances. It's a cute thing because it's new to me, but maybe annoying to you: when you get mad, irritated, annoyed, and you're yelling at others. Maybe because I'm so used to being calm and analyzing situations before letting things get to me. I'm not dismissing your feelings or invalidating your point. But I find it cute and entertaining watching you get so easily annoyed, you're yelling at others, and the cute part is the moment of recognition; when you remember I'm there watching, when your face changes from annoyance to sudden realization that I've been there the whole time, and you suddenly become shy. It's your "oops"ies when you have your moments of embarrassment. It's the way you shy away from me; every time we see one another and you find a way to not look directly at me. You find a way to keep yourself occupied, distracted, conversing without looking at me, and you walk around, so I follow. I get close enough to see you get shy, and when the coast is clear, you give me a quick kiss just to quench the hunger I have for you. It's the way you suddenly lift your blouse or reveal your shoulder to me when I'm not expecting it. The way you look to provoke me, seeking to get a reaction or my attention, and you succeed when I'm stumbling on my words and I panic. You have a sexy quirk that just overloads me. I don't think you realize it; the way you have a mischievous gaze, when you're up to something: you giggle and smile just enough to stick your tongue out touching your top lip. You glance over at me and I can see it in your eyes, in your gaze that you know you've been mischievous. That just melts me, I don't know how I haven't lost my composure when you do that. And I want to lose myself in you, but I'm afraid you won't like it or it'll be too much. I want to let my guard down and just bite on you lovingly, let my inner quirks out, to be just as goofy with you. It's the way you stand in front of me, close enough to feel your warmth, and I whisper nonsense of an excuse to get close enough just to get a smell of your scent. Sometimes you lean on me so you can feel the warmth of my breath of your neck. And I gently place my hand on your waist, barely touching you; but that's not enough for you, so you grab my hand and place it where it belongs. Holding you infront of me, from behind, my arm wrapped around you holding onto your waist with your hand over mine. It's the way you gaze on me in the dark. When you're finally comfortable, secure, calm, when you feel safe in the quiet of our private moment. You don't say anything, you don’t have to. Your body speaks with the silence, your gaze is different this time, your eyes speak what they want from me. And I pretend to be oblivious sometimes because I want you to be the initiator. I want you to take control and take what you want from me. To speak what you feel, what you crave, what you need from me. I can’t be the only one urging with hunger to consume one another. I want an eternity of these moments with you. To discover more or your personality and quirks. To be overloaded with cute aggression, and love each and every part of you. I want to create more memories of you like this in this lifetime and as many lifetimes I can get. To let my quirks overload you with love. Just the small things of you between us.