He came back

Do you remember me talking about the boy I loved, the boy I loved as if he were the air that I breathed, as if he was the anatomy of everything that was good and worth loving in this world. The same boy that shattered my heart and left me crying myself to sleep for months and months.

Well... he came back.

He told me he loved me only two nights ago that for this 6 months he hasn't stopped thinking of me when he thought his emotions and thoughts would dispel, they didn't. That he still loved me and wanted me to come back so he could see me.

And what was my reply.......

I love you.

Because I simply do love him, my friend suggested that he is my definition of what love is and that nobody has ever been good enough because they haven't been him.

Well that I disagree with, but her point still stands, and maybe he is my definition of love because he is the only love I have ever known.

He's the one boy that never hurt me physically, nor sexually, but so brutally emotionally. Tell me, which do you think is worse? Because I honestly can't decide, both tear you apart but in completely opposing ways.

And my cuts have healed, my bruises have disappeared and my blood has dried. But my heart, as cheesy as it sounds, though in one piece I can't fathom whether it has healed or not. Does its healing mean that I can love again? Because if so then yes I am healed, I love him still, always. Or does healing mean simply adapting to the situation you've come to manifest? If so, then again yes.

I write this because I am just as confused about my emotions as I ever could be, for some reason I am craving some time at home where I can isolate and write and be with my mother and sister and old friends. Never something I crave. I am confused about my emotions towards this boy, I mean I dreamt for months to hear those words and to have him want me just once more, and now he does, though I responded I love him to I didn't have the reaction to the message that I thought I would have.

I never knew that love could be like that, It was as if his soul was a section of the sun and as if every flower and every star was ashamed to glow and bloom within his presence for fear of being unable to compete. God I can't describe how incredible he was, his freckles, his unruly gelled hair, his laugh and carelessness- something I both loved and hated. Fireworks knew no spark like that of ours, we fought and argued and he made me completely mad, but never did I doubt that he was everything I wanted, even when I hated him, I loved him. A love so pure, so blinding and reckless, it was like a fire with the power to sparkle and brighten everything within its surroundings but also slowly and painfully burn the thing it once lit.

I could go on, but he then broke me. And a consequence of a love like that is the pain that shadows it, our story brought a new meaning to a tragic love.

So where do I go from there? I can't forget that but I can now never have that with him, and I know that and somehow I am either numb or content with that and neither is good, though it be mentally necessary.

To love is to live, for love is the foundation of humanity and coexistence. I loved when I was with him, and I loved him when away from him, regardless of our distance my love stretched and found him. Therefore, he was life. He is life.

They say that you can't be friends with somebody you once loved, but I can be his friend, I am happy being his friend, tell me what that means? whether that means the fire finally burnt through every limb of the trees or whether it wasn't the fire that burnt, it was I that burnt out.

All my love

JulietX