:: All That You Can't Leave Behind ::

:: Sunday, April 18, 2004 ::

Love, Actually

I had an epiphany today.

The boy and I were driving back to town (in his new car I might add) from a day at the races. As we scooted down Versailles I came to the realization that I was no longer ashamed or afraid of the love that I once had for someone.

I found myself at this conclusion when I began telling him about how sometimes when I'm around certain types of crowds (i.e. the types with horses, yuppies, and money collectively) my mind begins to wonder about how my life would've been different. What if I was born to my aunt instead of my mom. What if my mom had married someone different, someone that wasn't outside of her social circle? I don't mean to be classist but I honestly can't ignore the fact that my mom's side of the family has money, no matter how uncomfortable that might make me feel sometimes. But I digress...

The partial point is basically that I found out that I am pretty happy with who I am and I wouldn't change things. I feel so lucky that I don't have to live under certain pressures that I know if my life was the other way around I would have to deal with. I very lucky that I have the life that I have...

The main point, however, is that for so long I was, to be honest, ashamed of the fact that I was in love with someone.

Not many people know this...

In fact, I can probably count on one hand the number of people that, a.) Know the both of us, and b.) Know that for a number of years (I'd say at least 3) I was completely, utterly, head-over-heals in love with someone that I considered my best friend. I tried to deny it, ignore it, make it disappear into thin air. I was given no relief. All I ever thought about, all I ever wanted was her. Nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't an obsession, it wasn't fanatical, it was the purest of loves. I just wanted her to be happy. Unfortunately, "happiness" led her to South Carolina, some 300 miles away. It led her out of my life. We don't talk anymore. Why? I have honestly no idea.

I miss her.

For so long I was ashamed because I didn't have any self-esteem and thought how could she possibly love me back? Why would she love me back? I convinced myself that even if she reciprocated my feelings that there still wouldn't have been a way for it to work out. Self-sabotage at its finest.

So why am I writing this dear reader? I am writing this because I am so full of love that I can't hold it in any longer, no matter how painful it might be. I may never see her again but even if I don't at least I'll know in my heart that I wasn't a liar and I wasn't a bad person. Love is exactly that and I wouldn't trade a second of what happened.

I loved you Callie. A part of me always will, no matter what. You touched my heart and I will always treasure that.

But I have to move on. To do that I must release this, these feelings for everyone to see. Including you, if you ever read this. I'm letting it go.

In loving you I found a part of myself that I didn't even know existed. Thank you for showing me that. Thank you for everything. I hope you are happy, wherever you are and whoever you're with. You deserve the best.

Please know that you were loved.

If you ever want to know how I feel now, just listen to James Taylor, I'm sure you'll know what I mean.

That is all. Thank you.
:: Estoy_Libre 12:36 AM [+] ::
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