Letter To The Girl Who Loves Me
I stopped. I stumbled. For a microsecond there - When I was writing “Who Loves Me..” I stumbled. Because, it is difficult to believe in something that you did not believe for so long. I did not believe that anyone could love me. And deep down, all I really wanted was a chance to love someone. I was wrong. I spend too much time saying sorry because that is the default. That is the Side A of my cassette that has been stuck in a loop, since I can remember thinking about the second voice in my head. And sometime, I can unspool it. Set it correct. Turn to Side B. And sometimes, I believe that’s where it will stay. I was wrong. It’s been 4 years now that I have tried to made sense of the puzzle-box called “my brain”. And I have gotten better at it. I know when to not say the things that my head asks me to. I know where to stand. And when to hold. And how to say things, that I am not sure are fully formed thoughts in my head. I was wrong.
I have unspooled and then collected myself together many times. So many times, that it feels un-natural at times to not unravel. To have good days and believe in us. And not doubt. To think that I deserve the happiness that we have. In fleeting moments. To know that I am not deliberately sabotaging us. I was wrong. It is torture to watch you ask me for something I don’t know. “Tell me what is happening inside your head” you said. I am good at words. Mostly. And this is when they decide to fail. I have no idea how to describe what is in my head. Without killing what is in my hand. You and me. A dream. I was wrong.
I thought I am over the hump. I have the sunset. And I will walk with you, to the bright side. I will be strong. I will let you love me. And understand your asks. Be gentle. Be like someone you will want to love. But that is where I stumbled. I am not to try. I am. I was wrong.
I am drowning today. And I don’t know how to ask for help. But I want help. This is worse than the times I did not, because now I know what it feels to live. Die fighting. No hope was better, says my second voice. It was wrong. I will survive. Stay. I don’t know how to ask for help. But I am asking you to stay. Just a bit longer, till I can win another bout. I know not when the battle ends. But I can win most bouts and lose some, I ask you to wait till the end bell. And we will see if, I am right.