Last Time

Day 7

    December 8, 2018.

What a drag.
    
"Do you ever just wake up and feel unwanted? More specifically by the person you love? Welcome to the story of my life. And I don't expect you to assume that I'm proud of it. As a matter of fact..."
    
     The first tear soaked into my perfect cursive. The ink began to spread and the paper around it smudged painfully. I set the pen down, knowing I couldn't allow myself to continue. Then came the second. But the second was the last.
     We nuh carry feelings, we carry we gun dem.
     I flipped through the hundreds of pages covered in scribbles and heartfelt messages that would never get to who I intended. Sighing, I gently closed the journal, unconsciously tracing the intricate flowers engraved onto the purple leather. I slumped back into the comfort of my recliner taking slow deep breaths.

     I think it's over. Over for me. I've felt like this since the last heartbreak I took too far. I got over it and although I never attempt to talk to my ex about what he did, we still talk casually and honestly; I wouldn't have it any other way. But all the guys after him...
     I remember all the times I let people rub what he did in my face and use it as an excuse to treat me the way they did. It hurt, they knew it, but they never stopped. And I didn't stop them either. I wasn't over him yet.
     Months passed before I decided to pick myself up and do something for me. In an attempt to make me happy. But that decision was a pathetic one. I lost so much in one week I didn't even realize it. The toxic person that emotionally abused me for everything I couldn't be. The person I trusted with my life. The person I thought gave me hope to be better. And the person I loved from the beginning. Four people I thought I needed.
     But only one mattered. And by Devine Creation or not, he stayed. He stayed beyond his pain and my betrayal.
     How could I be so blind? All this time I loved him and he didn't acknowledge it because he was going through his own problems... but when he finally came back and cared even more than the immense love and patience he showed me in the prior months... I brushed it off. Biggest mistake of my life.
     But I find myself bringing him up all the time. I hate myself for the things I've made him put up with. I hate myself for all the things he went through and still goes through for me. I guess that's why I don't lose myself with the minor setbacks of some boy not being able to handle me.
     All I needed was him. He knew it. I knew it. All that mattered was him. He was one of the few people that didn't want me for my body. He saw me for me. Not the broken trust and the facades of normal. No. He saw me for my true colors, my anxiety, my depression, my problems, my smile, my laugh, my overwhelming crush on him. He wasn't perfect. He had his moments and his flaws. But I've never been more proud of him.

     "That's how love should be. Through thick and thin. It's magical and miserable. But with him, I could never be miserable." I chuckled at the note I scribbled onto a new page in my journal, smiley face printed to brighten my mood.
     MY HORMONES COULD SMELL HIM FROM A MILE AWAY. It wasn't just love. It was that attraction that came with it. He wasn't lust. He was worth every second of my life.
     I had unconsciously been drawing hearts around a calligraphy of his name. I felt the joy spread back into this empty home. The numb sensation fading to warmth I felt in my cheeks and my heart, slowly making its way down my core.
     This is love. And I missed him. All of him.