I Get It Now

For a long time I judged you for this sick version of new life. For a long time I thought you were weak but never said the words, because you needed me as a mirror and I felt my job was to be there for you, and to make your new life easy for you to deal with as I could. Like oil, as you once said.

I always thought you were weak, for wanting to go back to the old station and the old rides. I thought you were selfish for wanting a window to come and stare, a window that would allow you to see all that you left behind, just as you chose this new eternal and utopian joy.

For a long time I judge you, and saw you as a weak man... and I probably still do, just that I see myself in your ways of behaving and I finally understand where you came from.

Since the very beginning I've related my way of feeling, physically and emotionally, to our old ways and what I took from you when I did. The physical way of dealing with them, the discipline in the setting of boundaries and the early emotional resignation; all of it was always so familiar to your ways, and with no shame I say that I am glad I learned it all from you.

But I always firmly believed the one thing that separated us was that last piece, the looking back after achieving the goal. The need for venting or ideas of infatuations after gaining the golden ticket, I always judged you for needing to talk to me about other girls after being so happily in love.

The other night I came home to this book and a bottle of wine, and the sensation of an old song felt too familiar. The thought of you came to my head and I struggled with the idea of what you might have been going through this whole time; you missed the empty you, the always free you, the always in control you. And I understood, I finally understood what you meant all those years.

Your happiness wasn't part of that moment of melancholy, it was never about your current reality and the fact that you were actually happy and in the best moment of your life. It was always about the bitter sensation of not having that thing you always had, the emotional roller coaster and moment. I get it now.

This blog started with a very sad and heartbroken me, and for a reason I never understood until now, I find it harder and harder to write when I am truly happy. I am, just like in those other aspects, similar to your feeling, to your thinking; I also miss the sad and empty me.

Featuring Valeria
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