Dear You

One of my favorite memories with Mary is singing Carpenter's "Close to you" at one of her work breaks. 

It starts with "Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you are near?...".

You could ask why I'm bringing this up, but that's the thing, every time you are near something seems to bright up. I feel warm. Happy. Lost in time. 

And it's not your fault. Actually it's a compliment. Because I tend to make myself strong. Tough. 

However, with you I'm genuine. Myself. Silly. Simple. Sweet. Fragile. And I feel like at home. 

It's a wonderful feeling.

But enough is enough. I wasn't made to be put aside. To be left alone. Cold. And broken. And lonely. And so I won't.  

I'll pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again. Because if its true that men have left me scarred and broken hearted, it is undeniable that it has made me stronger. And more than that: for better and for worse, now I have an idea of what I deserve and how I want to be treated. Because if I care for others, I have the same right to be cared for. 

You were right though. You are a good man. The one that put aside weaknesses, just so that a good friend wouldn't be hurt. 

So, if you won't be with me, you'll have to follow through, with every word you say. 

And I, as a good friend, to show you my kindness and thankfulness, will, shut up. I'll stop making remarks on things you say that may hurt me. It's my problem, my responsibility. 

I'll just pretend everything is fine. And don't worry, I'm a great pretender. It runs in the family. 

Note: knowing you better hasn't made me respect you less. Or smile/laugh less. Or panic when you drive. It has actually been the greatest experience. So, thank you for that.