A letter for you

Hi,

I hope you are okay. It's been a while without hearing from you, and it is fine that way.

Sometimes I wonder how your life is going, although I might confess that, rather than curiosity, it's the fact that I still see you coming around sometimes. I guess it's normal when someone becomes a ghost without having fully understood their transition to the other side of the veil (it's canon to many movies, books, and legends that the ones who are removed from earth without any preparation or awareness, wander around the places they visited and the people they interacted with, expecting some kind of sign that announce them that they're still here, between us).

And yes (and yet), here you are (you wouldn't believe that I'm talking to and about you in this part even if I told you that I know when someone has entered my domain).

You have come more than once for answers, as if it were me who owed an explanation. You have been left with many questions about what could have happened that drove me to close the door to you.

If you need a hint on the direction to where everything went south, the answer lies deep within your heart, in the areas that you still refuse to look at. I want you to know that I don't blame you if you still refuse; looking at those parts can shatter the image you have built of yourself, and that, my dear, is such an excruciating exercise that after going through that door, you will never be the same person again.

Crossing that door implied, for me, to put to work my real self for the first time in nearly 4 decades. To discover who I am when I was not trying to please; the conscious decision and effort of wanting to meet my soul with others in an honest way, even when I was seeing through your demons, and then understanding and embracing every bit of them... Crossing that door implied for me, as well, getting rid of every bit of fakeness that didn't come from a naked soul as well. I grew tired of meaningless relationships and realised that being a mirror is a role that I need to hold with grace and empathy: Not everyone is capable of looking at themselves through the eyes of anything different than their own illusions of themselves.

This being said, my journey companion, the answer is exactly in the moment when you knew something had changed. The mirror I showed you then was the silence that echoed your attempts to wear masks when they were not necessary, and when you met me from your disturbances instead of your flaws. You know (and you also knew then) that I would be the last to judge your vulnerability, but the first one to reject your masks. I will (always) be more than happy to talk, to discuss, even to argue over a difference... But don't make me untangle whatever is going on with you because I am not here to take care of that part of you. You -and I- are capable of more.

Did something hurt? Tell me.

Something was odd? Then ask me.

Do you want something from me? Ask for it.

Something didn't make sense? Go for clarification.

Don't ever, ever, take from me without asking me first; it will always be the easiest way to make me walk away from you, for good. And above all, don't try to fetch any of the mentioned from me if you haven't done this or clarified yourself first. 

If you want to remain in your ways and with your masks, it is okay. I don't judge this because I know how painful it is to leave the coping habits. But if that is the case, if you need to remain comfortable, please know that I am not (and probably I will never be) a good fit for you in any way... and that means that you're wasting your time here.

This is my letter for you, my journey companion, in the name of the time we shared. If I were to cross paths with you anew, I heartily hope our souls find harmony again.

In any case, I wish you the best.

I hope this letter, if not an invitation to make the leap of faith, becomes the closure you were looking for, and that it finds you well.

Faithfully,

S.