Sitting here reflecting on what was—what I thought it would be, what it became, and what it is.

I know that you loved me with an intensity and rawness that terrified you. And instead of following your soul, you chose your comfort zone. You chose the path of least resistance.

You know deep within where you have chosen to bury it that you almost broke me. But if you distract, deny, and hide from your truth, you’ll never have to admit to yourself, or anyone else, the f*cking pain you inflicted on me.

A woman you called your person. A woman you said was the love of your life. A woman you said you loved more than was imaginable.

I suffered; I struggled. I felt every savage blow. Each time I got up, another cyclone of emotions would sweep over me, knocking me to the ground. I was drowning in a sea of pain—a mixture of love, loss, tormented memories, and anguished tears.

It was a brutally dark time, and as I lay there one day physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually depleted, I realised the only one who could help me was me.

What I understood in that moment was this grief—this torture I felt, knowing we didn’t end because of a lack of love but rather your fear—had to be the motivation to propel me forward.

It was the beginning of my deepest and darkest healing, a colossal growth, which sent me down a winding path with multiple bends and hurdles. Cliff tops that appeared out of nowhere. Hidden ditches and jagged rock shards awaited me on every step of my voyage. I kept getting lost and had to retrace my steps. It was arduous and frightening, and there were times I sat down sobbing, anxious, tormented, wanting to give up—wanting someone to take all these f*cking feelings away.

I’ve not reached the end of that path yet and as is the journey of life, I’ll keep moving forward—even when it’s fraught with danger, when I’m bloodied and bruised and lost. I know if I keep moving through the obstacles, I will grow stronger and more courageous.

You, I have come to realise are not as far down the path as I am. You are yet to really face your shadows and allow yourself to feel the emotions. You are choosing safety over the rawness and reality of your feelings. I get it; it’s bloody hard and easier not to face. That bothered me for a long time. It gnawed away inside of me, but I know that’s your journey, and you need to travel it the best way you know how.

Sadly, these things have a way of unmasking themselves, and at some point, all that you have buried and tried to hide will come bubbling to the surface. It will be in this defining moment that you will feel an unleashing of emotions. An assault of feelings painfully erupting through every cell of your being, begging to be released. You can’t compartmentalise forever.

We can hide many things, but the truth always finds its way out. The truth in how we feel cannot be long hidden. The truth in who we are at the core needs to be released should we ever want to find peace. Running from your truth will forever have you running from yourself, and that is no way to live.

I don’t think you understand the impact I had on you. I cracked you open to show you who you really were. The beautiful, the messy, the passionate, the insecure, the jealous, the ego, the pride, your light, your dark, and all your shadows—lurking in there, waiting to come out. To come out so you could meet them, understand them, and start to heal those festering wounds—wounds I’m not even sure you are aware of.

This absolutely terrified you. The thing with someone you have a deep soul connection with is that we are meant to hold that mirror up. We are meant to be the catalyst for growth. We are meant to teach each other. Uncover parts of each other to discover who we are meant to be. It’s the most important and profound relationship one can find, and that is the ultimate gift. You can face it, or you can run from it. I faced it. You ran.

I saw you. I mean, I really saw you. Not the confident and charming man you masqueraded as (yes, I saw him too), but the little boy—the lost and scared, little boy in there. I saw your darkness, and I knew you were a complicated and damaged man, but I never judged you in anyway. I just loved you—the mess of a man who stood in front of me, and that was not enough.

You confided things that you had not shared with others, and I understood that was hard for you. My love was never conditional. I knew you lacked the courage to be completely vulnerable, and deep down, I knew the fear of what you felt for me and the terror of taking a different path would always hold you back—regardless of your words. Your assurances.

You once said I had your heart. You couldn’t understand the love you felt for me and the fact that I was on your mind every waking minute. That whatever happened, you would not let a love like this go. That the universe brought us together for a reason.

My energy, you said, had this amazing ability to just draw you in. You had never felt such an attraction to anyone, and our chemistry drove you crazy. I was the person you wanted to be with.

You wanted to travel with me and build a future with me. I was the love of your life, you said.

But words are just that…words. I do not doubt you loved me fearlessly in your own way, but you started something you could not commit to; you lied to yourself and you lied to me, and in the process, you nearly destroyed me—someone who would have given you the world.

Maybe you think about me from time to time? When you visit your “special place?” When you watch a sunrise? Perhaps it’s when watching your favourite show or hearing a few of those songs?

Maybe it’s when you are having a shower and you remember me hogging the water or complaining it wasn’t hot enough? Or when you momentarily lose your sense of direction? Perhaps it’s when you’re getting a massage and remember my hands soothing your tired neck and shoulders?

Maybe it’s when your body involuntarily reacts to a subconscious thought of me, a memory of how my bare skin felt upon yours? Or when you realise I’m the only one you could actually share some of your darkness with?

You loved me, and then you nearly broke me.

But I somehow managed to throw myself a life raft in the midst of chaos and despair. As I slowly and painfully paddled to shore, I became a stronger swimmer. I was so scared, overwhelmed, and exhausted at times, yet I resiliently battled the elements and learnt an array of new skills along the way. I allowed myself to feel every f*cking sting, every loss of breath, every crashing wave—until I arrived to the shore.

Breathless and bruised—but alive. Sunburnt and parched—but whole and with a fierce determination and independence. With an unwavering self-love, self-belief, and absolutely no fear at all of being alone.

My vision and understanding of the depth of your wounds clear. Your path must be yours and yours alone to travel. There are beautiful realisations and authenticity when you are ready to remove your mask and face your shadows, face your truth, and speak your truth. It will be at that time you find your ultimate growth. I hope that one day you reach this point, be honest with yourself, and show up as the man I know is inside of you.

Your love was a beautiful blessing.

You, almost breaking me, was the harshest of lessons.

The ability to put myself back together with renewed determination, purpose, and passion is the sweetest gift I could give myself.

~