Toujours l'amour

I know you'll always love her. I'm sitting at your desk, where you told me I could go sit and do my homework, looking down at a picture of her on the table. You probably forgot it was there. She's beautiful. It's okay that you still love her. I mean, not that I have the right to tell you if it's okay or not, but just so you know it doesn't bother me. Sometimes there's just that person that hits you like a freight train. Sometimes when they go away, they never really go away.

She's beautiful. She looks so distant. You've told me quite a bit about the two of you, how it was, and how it ended. I know you loved her probably more than you've ever loved anything in your life. It sounds like she could be pretty cold, and pretty far away. And the thing is... I'm nothing like that. If that's what you want, you'll probably never love me back the way that I love you. I don't want somebody to be totally crazy about me, running around after me, doing everything for me, just to look down my nose (metaphorically) and perhaps throw them the occasional bone, or pat them on the head. I don't need that. I don't need to keep my distance to make you always want more. The thing is... I know that works. Some people do it on purpose, and some people, that's just the way they are. I think she was probably the latter of the two.

With you, I don't know... you've told me quite a bit about your past. It seems like you were always pretty shy, and it seems like maybe you weren't praised enough for the things that you do. Like maybe you weren't given enough credit. Like maybe you weren't appreciated enough, or at least shown that you were appreciated enough. And I think about that quite a bit. I don't want to reinforce those ideas you have about yourself. And maybe the way I treat you is less attractive, less mysterious, less deliciously painful, and those are the sort of things that draw you in. I know that. I know all of that. And I could do all of that to get you to feel that way about me. I could analyze you and manipulate you to get you to feel that way back. See... my gift is understanding people. What their fears are. What their insecurities are, what they struggle with. What makes them happy. What makes them afraid. What makes them fall in love. That's my gift. I know those things about people. I know things I shouldn't know about people. But I am never going to do that. I am never going to use what I know about you to make you love me.

All that doing that would do would trap you in another codependent relationship where you thought that you were happy while really just chasing, running yourself ragged, for one kind word, one bit of approval, one nice gesture. Waiting with bated breath for the next one to come, whenever that would be. I don't want to make and then keep you dependent on me. I want you to be happy. So maybe, when you do something well, or you do something sweet for me, or anything like that, and I smile without reserve, and I praise you, and I thank you again and again, and I tell you that you did really well or I tell you that that was very sweet, and that I appreciate it... maybe that won't get you to love me. Because you want someone that holds back, that's mysterious, that you just don't understand. Maybe because you never understood why you weren't appreciated as a kid, and that's the kind of relationship with someone you can understand. But you know what? If that's true, I don't care if you never love me the way I love you. I don't care. I know you care about me, and that's good enough. All I want is to try, in every way I can, to reinforce to you the idea that you are good enough, and you are an incredibly special, kind-hearted person, and that you are smart, and talented, and that every kind thing you do for me, every time you tuck my feet in at night so I won't get cold, or bring me coffee in bed, or smile at me the way you do sometimes, or pick me up when I get stranded, every time you do that, it warms my heart right up. It makes me so happy. And I appreciate every kind thing that you do. I notice and I appreciate it. I think you are a wonderful human being. Yeah, you fuck up. So does everyone. But I truly think you are a wonderful person, and I am proud of you, and I appreciate you. Fuck games. You can never, ever, ever love me, and I will be so happy with that if you start to believe even a little bit how good you are.