jb

You looked like such a happy person, before all of this. I didn't know you, and you didn't know me, but we were the same person. We just didn't know it yet. We don't know it now. But I know it and so do you.

It has been so long since you've been able to love someone with your heart. You've meandered about the waiting room for months. But that room only yields bad news, and that's what you have. You've got bad news, friend. I'd tell a beautiful soul like yourself that I've fallen in love, and at points I truly believe it myself. There are moments when I can think of no one else, and your individual emotions overcome my humanity; swallowed into another state of being...an empathic reality. But in the long run, I know that you are you, and that I am myself. & there is little to no major or minor interconnection.

You say, "I love you". You have said, "I love you". You will say, "I love you". I know you mean it on a certain level, but I urge you: if you do not mean it the way I've stacked it up in my head, please don't say it. I've built this despicable state that filters words and phrases that shuffle in with a blasé demeanor. But the single phrase that you have uttered twice now leaves me on my knees with my hands out in front of me. Begging, longing for more.

I beg for more of you. I could never have you, and I'm more than aware of that in any mental capacity or state, but that does not keep one from wishing. & I love you. But I love you in the way that I mean it.

I'm so sorry that he hurt you. That he scarred you. That he imprinted permanent damage onto your impressionable skin. It was not fair, and I'm sorry you're frightened to get close to anyone else. Be okay. Be free. Please be healed.
I beg...