Once upon a time,
I loved a boy very much.
I fell for him without knowing what or how to give love,
or what this “love” even was.
Over the years, he changed names and faces.
But I kept loving and giving to him, the same clueless love, in the same clueless way.
We hurt and healed, hurt and healed.
One day, he asked me,
“How do you know that you love me, if you don’t even know what love is?”
“Why do you not think I know what love is?” I asked, defensive.
“Because, ever since that once upon a time, you never grew a love for yourself. Because you only grew love in different versions of me.”
I realized that he was right.
I realized that I’d been recycling this “love” for him, as he changed names and faces.
I realized that it never really came from me
because I had none.
Not for myself, anyway.
This upon a time,
I loved a boy very much. Who loved me very much, too.
In fact, he loved me so much that, although than he wanted me to love him,
he wanted me to love myself, more.
I had given him what I knew, what had been exchanged in the past-
the hurting and healing, hurting and healing.
He said that if I knew how to be okay, on my own,
I would not have to hurt that much
and that I would be able to grow a love for others, a true love, a strong and lasting love,
one that came from me,
one that I could call my own.
Next upon a time,
I’m going to love a boy. So very much.
And it won’t be a love that’s based on habit or need,
it’ll be a love that’s just for him. Just from me.
His name and face, I still don't know,
but my love for myself,
and my love for him,
I will know.
Found him. On October 30, 2016.
Turns out, I wrote this piece on his birthday earlier that year.
Call it a coincidence, call it fate – whatever the name, I think it means something...
My love for him? The one that's just from me? I don't quite know yet.
I'm still discovering it.
But it's still JUST from me, JUST for you.
There's no way it won't be beautiful.