True Love Requires Being Your True Selves
Today, I saw you emanate the likeliness of something I’d diligently worked to get rid off: Me.
I am irrevocably in love with you. I love the way you look at me. I love how your eyes gleam. I love how you fill our minutes with silence. I love how you make memories, for me, of us. I love why you love me, why you want to give all of you to the whole of me, and how you make me feel secure — which is that you don’t hate me like I do. I love you for how special you make me feel. For finding the best in me, finding those few things — while everyone else just want to stir my crap. I love what little you want to share now so that you can save “the best” for later: you want me to kiss you on your cheeks; touch, but not caress; sense, but not stimulate; entice but not induce. And I am okay with all that.
But, there is one thing that I love you the most for: You offered me solace.
You offered me solace when I was running away from myself. You offered a place to stay so that my deepest fears and my stupidest emotions would never find me again. You helped me escape myself, and helped me settle in an emotional euphoria that I found in just seeing you crave for me.
But now though, I see you as a different person.
You get angry. You make me feel like you are overpowering me.
But that’s all something I always enjoyed. I always enjoyed the way you get angry — spontaneous, incoherent, irrational. You would immediately want to end your spell of anger, and childishly want me to kiss you comfort. On your cheek.
Although now, when you get angry, you get angry like me.
You try your best to be composed. You don’t want to appear irritated. You don’t want to make it a “short burst” — you want to make it long, and cold. Because you are insecure. Like me. You want to make sure you are correct. You want me to understand you are rational and coherent. And when you end the spell of your anger, you kiss me. On my lips.
You want yourself to be like me, so that I can relate to you more accurately.
You are wrong. That’s exactly why I wanted to be with you, to be with someone who can make me feel “new”, and someone not just a different version of myself.
Now, I am angry.
Whenever we get in a relationship, we form a mental picture of our significant other. We give the image all their qualities and characters. The image grows with our love for them. And then, we work our “emotions” off to become that image.
This is often not what a healthy relationship is about.
A healthy relationship is where the couple can complement each other, and not be each other. And you can “complement” your significant other only when you are being yourself. You need to have your own dents. You need to be able to have your own desires. That way, your lover’s own desires and dents can work their way around yours, perfectly capable of being interlocked as one.
On the other hand, what do you think will happen if both of you have the same dents and desires? You are right, there will be no way for both of your emotions to be interlocked. All you can do is live with a kind of sense that you are giving your relationship everything.
But in that case, you won’t be able to run away from your deepest emotional shortcomings. You won’t find what you came looking for in the relationship — which could be to reform yourself into someone completely new.
Because, your significant other will always be there, bringing to the table what you came here to get rid of in the first place.
So now, I am angry. Angry at you for trying to be me. For bringing back my emotional pain points. For showing me how idiotically I get angry at things. For making me understand how insecure I am. For making it clear how I settle for the little things.
I am angry as hell. You have taken your solace back. But what is ironical about all this is you only wanted to connect with me more.
I yell at you.
Something I never thought I would do. And my words — they come off spontaneous, incoherent, and irrational.