Saturday, July 20, 2019

Dear Love...

Dear Love,

You will have to forgive me for writing you this letter but I feel that it is long over due. I have waited patiently for your arrival for so long that sometimes I forget that I am actually waiting. I am slowly starting to accept the fact that I just may be that one person in the family that may never discover the beauty within you.

The times that I think deeply about you make me question your existence. Are you there for me? Are you not a figment of my imagination? Are you not an illusion I entertain courtesy of the Romance novels I have poured over the years to make my soul happy? To nurture my wanning faith in your actual existence?

There are a handful of instances where I felt that you were so close that not only could I believe in your true existence but could languish in the feelings that the thought of you evoked. In these instances; I have experienced nothing but snatched hope and dreams.

Rejection, disappointment and ghosting at your expense have brought me unimaginable pain. Pain I did not think I would ever experience time and time again coupled with my other lot in life. Physical pain heals but emotional pain, there is no permanent relief for that except time, endurance and acceptance.

If there is anything this life has shown me; it is that to accept to hurt interminably for an unknown period of time takes sheer will power many do not have and neither do I. I almost came close to throwing in the towel this time last year because it was heartwrenchingly tough for me to withstand being emotionally and physically broken at the same time.

Would you believe it if I told you that I have rivulets of tears streaming down my face while penning you this letter? I would like to believe that it is cathartic but that would be lying. I have been crying on and off since July begun for no good reason. No. There is a good reason. I tend to lose people that I actually care for and presumably care for me in this month. And last year, well... I gathered my self--respect and lost again.

I look back on the times I was led on because of you. The times I have had my hopes crushed out of empty promises. The times I have believed in the words of humans that have never so much as paid for my data subscription and worst of it all; having to share my most prized dream - little Shanah's existence and mapped out life like she was a useless piece of gossip to share with everyone.

I hate you for that, you know. I hate you for having the ability to let people bait others with their most cherished dreams for entertainment: hoping that it comes true with them. Some things should be no-go areas and this is one of them.

Do you exist? I believe you do. I see hints of you in a lovers' embrace, the lingering glances and touches, beautifully written words in text and the intimate gestures that breathe nothing but familiarity between couples that make me sigh out of pleasure for being privvy to them from the sidelines.

Do you exist for me? I do not know. Would I like to find out? Maybe. I remain uncertain of this because of past experiences. I find myself shying away from flirtations and deeper conversations with the opposite sex because I do not wish to hurt any more. I no longer have the desire for meaningless conversations with people that do not excite me intellectually, humorously and emotionally. Most of all; I have come to loathe being used as a vessel to alleviate people's boredom, faux separation and silent treatments in their relationships.

People are under the impression that I am seeking perfection. They could not be more wrong. I am seeking emotional availability, consistency, honesty and action. Nothing more than that. But, it kind of seems too much to ask especially during this wait for you. I do not even know what to ask for anymore. The endless waiting period has filled me with a lot of doubt regarding your existence for me.

If you do exist for me, If you eventually arrive, may you be everything and more than I could ever dream of. May you show me your glorious beauty and imbue my soul with all the contentment it can take. And most of all; give me the simple pleasure of basking in the splendor of your reflection in a lover's eyes and warmth of his embrace.

Yours,
Shanah

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