We all find ourselves on bridges at one point or another. A place between here and there. Sometimes literal, sometimes figurative… but that part isn’t so important. It’s more important to recognize where you were, and where you are going.
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.
the two most wonderful types of boys.
1. Well dressed
2. Not dressed
I am not the girl you built in your head when you were too busy falling in love with the idea of love. I am not the inverse of your ex-girlfriend, not the complete opposite of the last woman who took your heart and reduced it to ashes. If you’re hiding from pain then I can’t promise to not stir up old traumas or revive the ghosts you always thought no longer existed. Before any of us can even step outside the shores of safety and while the slate is still clean, I want to be straight with you. I am not going to make you happy all the time.
Because the truth is: I’m probably not even going to like you all the time.
I am not going to save you or stitch you together or suddenly make you complete. Let me put all of this out there already. Believe it or not, I’m waving my honesty like a flag because I respect you. Because I’ve seen friends and brothers-from-another-mother become schmucks crushed by the hand of she wasn’t who I thought she was. Their hearts, bruised from the sudden deflation, have given me the resolve to abide by a different kind script, to come clean as early as now.
Because I think, at the very least, that you deserve to be saved from the illusion.
I am not your dream girl.
Sometimes you meet someone, and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together. As lovers, or as friends, or as family, or as something entirely different. You just work, whether you understand one another or you’re in love or you’re partners in crime. You meet these people throughout your life, out of nowhere, under the strangest circumstances, and they help you feel alive. I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but it definitely makes me believe in something.