i cried myself to sleep again last night.
thinking about all the things that could be wrong with me.
why so many people—
no, let’s be honest, men—
have hurt me the way they have.
another night spent wondering
if i’m really that hard to love.
if i’m really that complicated a soul
to truly care for.
i spent the night praying.
crying.
tired.
i didn’t get an answer.
this morning, i did.
i texted him last night.
after all, after ten years together,
he might have the answer.
“was i really that hard to be with?”
his response was simple.
eloquent—as expected—and kind.
his response was simple. eloquent–as expected–and kind.
“not at all. quite delightful in many respects. unfortunately compatibility is always hugely difficult.”
“thank you.”
was all i replied.
because i was thankful.
thankful that maybe
i really am expecting love from the wrong people.
maybe i’m not hard to love,
hard to endure,
just asking the wrong ones.
nothing new.
we know these things.
there’s more poetry about this
than one could ever count.
but sometimes,
we need to hear it
from someone who was actually there.
someone who knew us
before we learned to doubt ourselves.
hopefully, it helps bring my mind some ease,
my heart some comfort.
or maybe i won’t believe it.
maybe i’ll dismiss it,
like so many other kind words i’ve been told,
because the actions of many
tend to outweigh
the words of them all.
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