I thought that I was going to be swept off my feet,
having the wind knocked from my lungs,
feeling as enamored with you as I did almost ten years ago.

I was wearing that magenta color again, trying to be a version of myself from back then.

Spring and summer are not my seasons but **** when you reached out I knew I had to try.

I wanted to try.

I had reached a plateau of almost overcoming my self hatred and I wanted to be more confident, strong, dare I say appealing?

I felt as though I was at the edge of a cliff, a dangerous precipice:

What if it would be weird?
Really, it was more: what if he thinks I’m worse than who I was before?
Honestly, it was: what if he thinks I’m fat?

Worst comes to worst, I would just leave- vanish mysteriously without even saying goodbye.

When I saw you I felt so light, happy-
it was as if you were exactly the same.
I mean honestly you still looked so good.
I kept saying: “It’s like you haven’t changed at all”.

And you said: “I have been so worn down”,
And that shook me and made me really look at you differently.

You are such a humble person.
You are so interesting and insightful and talking with you makes me feel like I am meeting you again for the first time.

Seeing you again brought up so many feelings, but the strongest ones were that I wish I would have gotten to really know you back then instead of being obsessed with the idea of who you were. Or who you could have been to me.

I want to get to know you better, now that we both have grown into who we really are.

I’m proud of you.
You are proud of me.

Amazing what almost ten years can do.

I wish I could go back in time and make myself more important to you.

I look for you
in the background of
photos of our mutual friends.

For some reason I want
to see you and know
that you are okay,
despite the fact that
you hurt me so bad.

I guess we can’t choose who hurts us,
but we can choose who we love.

If I dissociate any longer
I’m scared that there will
not be anything left to come
back to.