To All Men I Ever Loved
This isn’t what I usually write in my blog. Nevertheless, here it is for you all to read. I believe people need to know that love is never reciprocal in the same amounts, and that is alright.
I see around me, a lot of lovelorn eyes surrounded by dark circles, and puffy with sleepless nights. And I want to look into these eyes and tell them that the heart is not to be caged, nor held on to for anyone in particular.
I want to tell them that it is okay to have loved and lost, to have loved again and to have loved one after another. I want to tell them that it is okay even to have never loved at all. Because it is. I know, because I have seen.
To all the men I have ever loved, and never had, here is to the sacred nights you gave me. A love untouched by the cage of relationship, is a love spent well. And I will keep seeking those nights, and those secrets recesses of pure worship, forever.
There will be men that lay on my bed, and cry their throats hoarse for someone they’ve loved. There will be men that lay in my bed, making love to me, because they cannot make love to the one they want.
There will be men that lay on my bed simply because they have nowhere else to be. And I will light my heart on fire to give warmth to their cold souls. I will wrap myself around them and make a home for the night.
And then, when they have cried out their tears, and unloaded their hearts into my lap, I will wipe their faces and put them to sleep. I will bask in the afterglow of their little secrets and the momentary breakdown of their masculine shields that dictate their lives to them.
To them, I will always be an awkward friend that they revealed too much to. They will wake up next to me, feeling a weird sense shame and remorse, like one feels in the morning when one accidentally sleep with a friend a drunken night before.
“Hey! So I will leave. I have to go. I’ve got this thing I need to be at. I’ll see you around then?”
“Sure.”
As they cross the threshold of my room, I will bid them adieu, for the best that could’ve come out of them, I soaked in through the night. I saw them as they really were. I saw them shed their emotional walls and stand naked in the truth of who they are. I saw their masculine shackles of strength break, and I saw them break too. I was the release they had never found.
Somewhere into the night of their misery, I had fallen in love with how beautiful they were. I had given my heart to the reality that they kept hidden from the world. But that was all in my heart, and in there it shall stay. For nothing taints the purity of love than its expression.
Here is to all the men I have ever loved: I haven’t loved the idea of you, but I have loved you. I have seen you disintegrate into the bare minimum, and shed your facades. And I have waited till all that is left of you is who you really are.
And then I have plunged head-first, in love. As I see your back stiffen and as I watch you walk out of the room, I know you are never coming back. I will always remind you of how weak you can be. I will always be the person you told your truths to. And I love this the most about you. That you will never be back.
You will never try to own me, simply because I know too much and own too much of you already. You will never try to come after me, because I am the forbidden fruit to you. You know you are too comfortable around me and that your guards will come off in no time.
So here we are, having shared a night of naked truth. Here we are, crossing each other on the street, as you avoid eye contact and I cannot help but look at how beautifully your hair sparkle in the sunlight.
To all the men I have ever loved, may you find it in yourself to be with others what you were with me. Your unguarded, non-masculine selves are what make you, and may you learn to love it as I do.
