“You have been loved by someone good”~ Sia
This week marks one year since I began to love him. I remember my realisation – it was after a text from him, telling me he is glad he started talking to me, it feels so easy, and reconfirmed after an after midnight text following a three hour conversation telling me I am the perfect girl for him. I fell quick, I fell hard. I wonder whether I am destined to keep falling in love this way – through words alone?
A couple of months ago I wrote about wondering whether a year will go by with a day where I wouldn’t think of him. The answer is no. There hasn’t been one day in these 12 months that I haven’t felt something for him. Sadness, frustration, and hope. But mostly love.
Just after I wrote that piece, we became in contact more than we’ve ever been. It has been one of the good things to come out of a very bad situation. Long emails and texts almost each day, and one call. The contact is, to an extent, more positive. I’m comfortable talking about things with him that I’d never with somebody else.
I feel a different kind of love for him now. It is more realistic due to the difference and distance between us. I feel it’s evolved from idealism and me wanting to be in a relationship, to lustful, to heartbroken… and now it’s this type of caring, understanding, non judgmental, fully trusting love on my part. It’s the kind of love I hope to feel growing old with someone. Only I won’t with him. It’s a nostalgic love. I feel more sad than happy about it, especially when he told me he wishes he could have our time again.
I don’t expect love from him in return. Though in the past I’ve hoped for it, I’ve never expected it. Just loving him is enough for me. Is that unhealthy? To settle for unrequited love?
This thing. It’s based on words and memories alone. And need. Mutual need. Unconventional love. I sort of want to set him free from my heart. He deserves this love from somebody closer to him, and so do I. And then I get sad at the thought of him no longer needing me.
A month ago I went to see a counsellor. The counsellor asked whether I loved him.
I said yes.
The counsellor asked whether I told him that I loved him.
Only once in person. A few times recently in text, to remind him of his worth to me. But I don’t want to push it. I don’t want to ruin things. Maybe he knows my love for him through my loyalty.
I have every right to tell him I love him, the counsellor told me, for I have earned my stripes.
I’ve earned my stripes. I love him.