Sometimes, I guess it’s just the time of year, I get stuck in this loop of remembering days that have long been through. A season of two years, a period of my history that is wrapped up in the very best and worst moments of this life so far.

I see him.

So many people who care about me have always shown concern that I’ve never let this piece go. They saw the way it broke me, they saw the way I had to die just to keep on living. Mentioning his name, I’m met with shrugged shoulders and raised eyebrows, and a repeated suggestion that I ought to have given up this story by now.

Yet, I am not the type to forget. A blessing and a curse. Every significant and simple moment is burned into my soul, and it is not in my nature to forsake the reasons it went that deep, so far into my cells, my bones, that I cannot separate myself from it even if I wanted to.

I’ve learned, not everyone gets true love. We get companions, we get friends, we get lovers, we even sometimes find what is the other half that fits us in ways we need but may not always understand – but, this, we were something else. I think that is why it made such an impression on my heart that no matter what was to come for us, he would remain with me for a lifetime.

I miss him today, and I absolutely know why. 19 years ago, on this day, it was two weeks after we met and I had a secret. I was already in love. Revealing this, the pattern was set in motion, and he said he loved me, too. I’m not sure a woman with a heart as feeling and deep as what beats in my chest could ever forget those precious moments.

He gave me safety when I had no home left. He gave me happiness when I had wanted so much just to laugh. He gave me an outlet for my soul, countless words and poems, and a place for my head to rest when the night came. He gave me passion and exploration. He gave me his heart, and after everything else was said and done, it had burrowed so far into my chest to ever remain, and combined with my own, thus sealing our fate of love though we would have to part ways.

I gave him courage to step outside himself and ask a girl for a call and a kiss. I gave him someone to listen and understand. I gave him loyalty and fierce belief in us. I gave him happiness and peace in our shared belief that the only we need in this life is love.

We gave each other the worst broken hearts of any lifetime, how it feels when you lose great love.

My story has many chapters since those days. I gave someone else a child, I gave someone else my hand in marriage. I moved away and began some other life, apart from where we began. He has done the same.

Yet when I have these thoughtful moments. When I have a moment to sit and just be with what I’m feeling, on this day, I’m going there, and I can’t seem to help it. I don’t think I want to.

Remembering us means it was real, and I am grateful we were. It used to hurt me to even hear his name, now I wish I heard it more.

Time is a funny thing, isn’t it?

Oh, and love. Love above all else… I marvel at this idea that once we go on with our lives, after loving someone this way, we’re taught to leave it and never look back. Maybe I’m not meant to be like everyone else, cause I think that is horse shit.

I am glad he is happy. He’s found a good life, and someone to love him. He’s a daddy, and he speaks another language now. But…

When we were young, I knew this quiet thoughtful young man. When we were young, I was his, and he was mine, and we made our dreams the same.

I still find him in mine. And today, I’m so glad he never left me.

Please, I welcome your thoughts, perspective, and new ideas on anything I have written here!

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