By symian — Written on Jul 29, 2009
When I met him, I wasn't trying to be his girlfriend, or his friend, or really even his aquaintance. It was business and I like leaving it at that. Around the third date, I spilled the beans and let him know that I'm a roken girl with a subscription (AKA many, many issues). I only told him because it was clear at that point that he was wanting to get serious and these issues of mine tend to make me shy when it comes to any type of emotional intimacy (READ: ice water flows through my veins and is propelled by an orange juice pump in my chest). In August of 2000 (two days before I turned 19) my brother was murdered. We were very close, and that day my entire life changed. My world lost it's color, all the wonder was gone, instead of the warm glow of the sun, there was only harsh light beating down on me. I vowed that I would never be that close to anyone again because I couldn't sustain another loss of that magnatude. Even after I had my daughter, I had issues bondig with her because for a long time I feared that aything could happen to her, and I didn't want to love her the way I loved Tony, and then lose her.
Then, I met him, eight years after my life change. He told me that he didn't hold my issues against me and that he was a very patient man. I laughed at this absurd notion. I knew he'd be gone in a few weeks because the anniversary date and my dreaded birthday were coming up. I tried to let him know that I don't feel comfortable subjecting others to the depths of my pain, but he gladly bears this burden with me, or at least he tries to.
I'm still in mourning, partially because I haven't been able to cry in over six years. I'm afraid to let go because then I don't know if I'll have anything left inside of me. And after a year, my guy has finally started to see the results of chipping away at my walls. Through my times of silence and being withdrawn, he has been there, waiting or me to come to him, and when I do, he comforts me. When I cloud up while doing something that reminds me of my childhood he doesn't make a big deal out of it, but he doesn't ignore it either. He's acepted me, with my issues. He's given me the support that I need to slowly rejoin the world and to appreciate my relationships in a whole new way. My wold is colorful again, and I'm no longer afraid to enjoy my life and feel the warm sun on my skin.
I can't thank him enough for sacrificing his time and energy so that I could come back to reality. I'm still a work in progress, but if I could, I would like to impart this to the world: Sometimes we meet someone with baggage and they are used to thier baggage, and they hold thier baggage closely, because that's all they know. If if weren't for him, picking up my bags so willingly, while understanding how heavy they are, I would never know what it's like to walk around without all of that weight. I hope that one day, I can cancel my subscription and live issue free, but at least I've found someone who can thumb through the pages with me and help me come to terms.