I found him two years after you. He walked into my life on a Friday night in July and I knew immediately that he was it for me. I’d never before experienced that kind of feeling–that knock you off your feet, make your heart skip a beat feeling. But that night, that fateful Friday night, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, and my life will never be the same again.
He, my perfect and wonderful he, is everything you weren’t. He is warm and fun and spectacularly thoughtful. He never tells me that my dreams are crazy, like you always did. He encourages me, and supports me, and respects me, like you never did. He is the man I always hoped I would find, and he is the man my father always hoped I would find. In all of my picture perfect fantasies, I never could conjure up anybody as wonderful as he.
He and I, share the kind of love that most people only dream of. We laugh and play and celebrate everyday, and we face the darkest of times with our arms around one another. We talk freely about the future, because we know that we will always be together. We love joyously and selflessly, and we love without fear of getting hurt. There are no walls, and no barriers, and we never dare to second guess.
There was a point in time when I was yours and you were mine. I was carefree and blissfully innocent. You were dark and guarded, and all I wanted was for you to love me. For half a year, I thought you might. I ignored your addictions, your infidelity, and your desire to drag me down, because I really, truly thought you might love me.
But you didn’t.
You loved my lips, and my body, and the my hands felt on your skin. You loved the way you could so easily convince me to stay with you, or give something up for you. Most of all, you loved the way that, no matter what you did, I would always find a way to excuse your behavior. But, you never loved me.
When I figured that out for the first time, the moment you walked away, it crushed me. I didn’t know why I couldn’t get you to love me, no matter how hard I’d tried. I didn’t know how I’d ever be the same again–how I’d ever be as free and happy as I was before you ever decided not to love me. But now…now, I thank my lucky stars everyday that you didn’t love me. Because, if you had loved me at all, I would have never been in that room on that fateful Friday night.
I would have never met the absolute love of my life. I would have never experienced this crazy, delirious kind of love. So, the next time I think that you never did anything kind for me, I’ll remember the one thing you ever did for me. You didn’t love me, and I can never thank you enough for that.