hopeless. in a restless heart.

I found love when I wasn’t even looking. That’s how it happens. When I was younger, I wore love on my sleeve. I could love easily because I just wanted love. I could love deeply because I had nothing to lose. I didn’t have much to compare it to.

Somewhere along the way, love started to define me. If I could make someone love me, stay with me, or see how good my loving them was… it was a reflection of myself. I was a failure at love.

When I met D, it changed. He gave me worth, butterflies, and soul before I knew I still had any capacity of love left in me. All those years I spent covering myself up, burying myself deeper in my own sadness was eroded away. He loved me and I loved myself. More importantly, I loved him.

I still feel the moments that flood me when I wake and know he’s gone. That even he didn’t think I was enough to stay for. I have no closure but the wounds are scarred and jagged, keloids disfiguring love.

Don’t worry there is happiness.

Because of his love, I know someone will stay. Maybe it will be C. I can’t be afraid of loving and losing. I shrink slightly at the thought of giving, again. But this is who I am. I’ve always wanted to share this love and have someone return it. Maybe C can live up to the task.

I wish I could thank D one last time for opening me back to the world. I owe him so much more than I will ever be able to express.

Dear C,
Hang in there. I’m trying to make it worth your time. I might not be perfect, say the right things, or be who you expected, but I’m me. And I’m the only me there will ever be.

I hope you’ll see the possibilities with me.

Always,
J.