Broken Bella Donna











{May 22, 2014}  

What an amazing difference time makes. Reading back on some old letters I wrote to PP, and the feelings come back to me, but now with the added benefit of knowledge and a little more understanding.

I love you, even now. I did then and I still do. Was I pretending to myself otherwise? I don’t think so. I think I genuinely didn’t know or realise – I’ve led a loveless life for so long I was unaware of the depth of my feelings.

I wasn’t just in love with the situation, or in love with the idea of being in love. I was in love with you. I think I still am. I think I always will be. And I am absolutely 100% OK with that. It doesn’t hurt me to know this, I don’t feel bad. I don’t regret it or fight the feeling – after over 30 years of a loveless existence, I am so bloody rapt just to learn that I can. I honestly feel I am entirely happy just knowing that I love you, and not much will change that. Even if we’re not together, even if you’re with someone else, even if that never changes. I’m cool with that.

You are someone worth loving. You are wonderfully broken. You are made up of a million little things, not all of them are perfect, not all of them are even good or desirable. Lots of them aren’t great. But they make you you, and that means they’re lovely.

I just had the most amazing epiphany. You are me. I am you. Everything I just said applies to both of us. After devastating nights spent sobbing to myself in the dark, it has suddenly dawned on me how people have fallen in love with me. In spite of all my foibles. This is what has drawn us together… our similarities, the cracks in our facades. The late night dark moments, the early morning sillies. The arrogance, the fear. The masks we hide behind and the little insights into our souls when that mask slips, or is torn away by impetuous people in the witching hour when we should be tucked away in bed, hiding securely behind the darkness. I always said you were the other half of my soul, and damnit it is TRUE. This is what drew us together. You came into my life to teach me how to love myself – by falling in love with you, I fell in love with myself.

By accepting you, I accept myself.

We are both wonderful people, worthy of everything. I have learnt this from you. I hope I have given you some valuable life lesson as well – even if it may not reflect well on me.

I was right about one thing though – we don’t seem capable of going back. I feel like I could, but you are holding yourself clear of me. You’re too afraid to come down to me again, so you’ve gathered your folds around you, tucked yourself in tight, and you’re keeping well away from me, emotionally and physically. I can view this only three ways – you are no longer interested in being my friend, you no longer trust yourself not to fall headlong into disaster, or you feel you’re doing me some sort of favour by maintaining this cool demenour of not caring. After all we shared, I feel the first point is unlikely. I feel the second is highly likely. I feel the third is a potential. I’d vote 80/20, between the last two. But we have lost our friendship, we have lost our regular connection. You are no longer someone I can call ‘bestie’. But you’re still someone I consider a friend. I still love you, but I acknowledge that as an adult, sometimes we have to let things go that we want to hold onto because it’s the right thing to do.

I have full, complete trust that this is not the end. We will reconnect. When and under what circumstances I’m unsure… but we will. Because we have to. How could we not? Not even 1% of me can entertain the idea that we won’t connect again – and I don’t even feel like this is wishful thinking. It just seems… inevitable. I suspect that’s why I can handle not seeing you now so easily – because I know we are just biding our time. Have i watched too many lame movies? Am I unrealistic? I don’t think so. I just hope it isn’t TOO long, because, well, we’re wasting time here.

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