Work Text:
I still remember this comfort... The comfort of being appreciated as we are. The comfort of being with a person who pushes us to move forward, who whispers encouraging words to us and who we follow step by step to be sure that we do not back down. The comfort of being with this person who shares her passion with us, her perception, and her desires... This person we want to hug and tighten in our arms whenever the opportunity arises as if ''the next time'' wouldn't longer exist. This kind of person we are afraid of hurting or fear her leaving. The person who offers us the most restful embrace, as well as the most painful memories...
I may not have been aware of it before. My life was unlovely. I didn't love myself and I hadn't learned to love the others. I was terrifyingly mean. I thought I was happy but was I? I didn't feel happy for the right reasons, I'm sure. I thought differently from everybody else. I was despised regularly for my acts considered immoral. I thought it was best to do.
I was not a bad person, right? I just had trouble showing it. I was just annihilating people who didn't understand. How was it wrong? You berated me so often for that and I hated you. I thought I hated you.
These are the memories of you that haunt me today. These memories where you get mad at me. The ones where you cry trying to support me, where you challenge me. These heartbreaking memories where you smiled at me telling me it's okay, even knowing it was not okay. Those memories where you forgave me anyways and going on to something else as if nothing unhappy had happened. Even those memories where you denied me while continuing to love me despite everything.
These memories I have from you, those I had barricaded in a corner of my mind where they will remain undamaged forever. The actions, people, the moments, and the words are ephemeral. Everything flies away over time but I know these memories will never go anywhere. It is so pleasant and scary at the same time. This feeling of regret is heavy...
And today... I still remember that hand reaching out to me. This hand that I have looked at for a long time then I ended up taking. The same hand that gently patted me on the back when I was sad while your words were trying to comfort me. This hand which guided me during all my most difficult years. During all these years I was looking for who I was. This hand I'm actually looking for. This hand that I would like you to take my hair off, that you lay on my shoulder as compassion. The one who often grabbed my arm, by marking me with a bruise because I was not listening to the rules and I was trying to run away from punishment. This hand which is yours...