I wouldn’t blame you if you did.
Let’s be real: It wouldn’t be a difficult decision to make. Why would anyone put up with this much vitriol? I look back at pictures and see someone full of life. Now I don’t recognize you in the mirror.
You once had a disregard for people’s opinion. It’s now become the only thing you care about.
You used to run, laugh, and yell. You used to smile and actually mean it. You used to do a lot of things that you don’t anymore. What happened?
Where did you go? The real “you”. Not this shell of a human that is hardly recognizable. No, the you that gave no apologies for being obnoxious. The you that cared about a plan but was able to enjoy being in the moment. The you that wasn’t worried about who would abandon you next.
I don’t blame you for retreating. I can accept that any one in their right mind would bend to the unrelenting pressure to be “enough”. You felt like you had to compromise in order to fit in. You thought that maybe if you were stronger, quieter, and a little more mature they would like you. A little funnier too?
Who are we kidding?
You were never going to be enough for them. You’re not even enough for yourself.
The sad part? You never had to be. You’ve crushed yourself underneath the weight of expectations that were never yours to fulfill.
No, I’m sorry…I did.
You see, I have to admit that I’ve never liked you. You’re too happy, too free, too non-status quo. I don’t know why, but I always wished you were born differently. I have a hard time accepting you for who you are…
I’m sorry that I pushed you into a closet away from anyone who could expose us.
I know it isn’t fair but I did what I felt was necessary. People were leaving. They were saying you weren’t worth sticking around for. What did you expect? I couldn’t bare watching you in pain anymore…Better to rip the band-aid off now and live in reality than suffer in delusion.
Would you like to know what kills me the most? It’s not that you were your own person or even that you stood out from most everyone else. It kills me to know that you were the best version of me and I never saw it until now.
Until it was too late…
I look back on pictures of you…me…and I wonder where you went. I see such a care free attitude – a genuine happiness. I wish I would’ve appreciated you for who you were when I had the chance.
I’m sorry that I wanted to be someone different. I’m sorry that I pushed you into a closet away from anyone who could expose us. I thought I was doing it for our protection but I was doing it so I could fit in.
I bought into the lie that acceptance was to be found in what the world deemed as cool, calm, and collected. The irony is that even with all of my desire, none of those words are what describe whoever I am today.
If I could go back and see things differently, I would allow you the space you deserve. The space to dance, laugh, tell stupid jokes, make up fantasy worlds where we were the king, or to make yourself the center of every picture. I wish I could go back…
I don’t blame you for being scared. I don’t blame you for being hesitant. You’re bruised…you’ve been beaten and abused. Not just by the world around you but by the one who was supposed to protect you – me.
Please, hear me out…you’re the only aspect of me that I can’t afford to lose. I see it now…I can’t live without you because you’re the only aspect of me that represents anything real.
Please…don’t leave me. If you do, I’m afraid I won’t have anything left to be defined by.
You are the last piece of the real me that I have left.
“Who We Used to Be” – A poem dedicated to my thoughts above is available to read here. Thank you for taking your time to process life with me.
You are loved.
You are valued.
Matthew Brandon 