When I realized I still loved you, my heart was torn in two. Not because you didn’t deserve me, but because I realized that even on my best day, I would never feel good enough for you. I am not ordinarily an insecure person. I know my worth, I know how I deserve to be treated, and I know that on my best day, I could move mountains with my bare hands. But when I think about my feelings for you, it sends me into a void and I can’t think straight.
When I realized I still loved you, I was still in a relationship. I was still fighting for someone who had already given up on me, though I hadn’t discovered it yet. I realized I still loved you more than I had before when you helped me pull myself together after I left him. You kept me laughing. You kept my spirits high when they were disastrously low. You gave me hope—hope that someday I would find someone who would treat me the way you did. Until I realized that person was you.
When I realized I still loved you, it felt right. Like all the stars had finally aligned and I could breathe again. The clouds had cleared and the sun was shining. I felt like I finally had a chance. A chance to be with someone who wanted me for me. To be with someone who brightened the darkest of days just by being there. A chance to be the real me and to be accepted and loved regardless of my quirks, like my deep obsession for Harry Potter. You never made me feel weird. You never made me feel like I didn’t belong.
When I realized I still loved you, I got angry. Not angry at you, but at myself. For so long, I had promised myself that I would never let myself feel this way for another human being again. I had finally made myself whole and had begun to love myself for me, not the person others wanted me to be. I wasn’t looking for love. I wasn’t looking for you. But when I fell for you, I fell hard. I loved you, and that made me sick to my stomach.
I realized I still loved you when I couldn’t tell you how I felt. Telling you how I felt about you made every emotion, every micro-thought in my mind, real. And real is scary. I couldn’t tell you how I felt because I wanted you to be happy; and I needed you to figure out for yourself if I’m the one who makes you happy. I grew tired of waiting for you to figure it out, but when thinking about the love I’d receive from you, it all became worth it. I realized I still loved you when you told me that to you, I was perfect in every way and I deserved the world. But what you never realized was you were always perfect enough for me. My soul felt tied to yours. It was March 14, 2020 when I realized that after nearly three years, I still loved you.
Every emotion, every thought pertaining to you had become real. Every memory I had suppressed resurfaced, and now I am forced to face the undeniable truth that every fiber of my being belongs to you. I hate giving you that satisfaction and I hate feeling so out of control.
But when I realized I still loved you, I was too late.