Fallen In Love with Falling Apart

Dear FA,

You’re my best friend. You know me so well and have been there for me through life’s darkest moments. There has been nothing that I could keep from you; you know my inner-most thoughts and my deepest secrets. You don’t judge me, FA, and I can’t tell you how much I value that in today’s world. There is no stigma or stereotypes in your view of me. Everyone else is full of judgment and hate, but you accept me for who I am.

You know the pain and the heartache I’ve endured, and you comfort me. You wrap me in your arms, and I can smell the soothing scent of your hair — feel the warmth of your skin pressed against mine as you reassure me that I am not losing my mind. This is what normal feels like, and I’ve never known any different. We grew up together, way back before we even knew about things like depression and anxiety. Before we knew just how messed up we were and how much more messed up everything else was.

Then, as we got older, I grew insecure. People didn’t like seeing us together, and I couldn’t handle it. I tried to hide you, make excuses. I pushed you away, tried to shrug you off and pretend you weren’t there so maybe everyone else could see me as normal. Most of all, I tried to fool myself into believing I was normal, as the world defines it. Maybe I could survive this world after all. But you never left me. You never gave up on our relationship and you followed me all the way out here. I’m sorry for shunning you, FA. For putting the opinion of others above my opinion of you. I’ve let you back in, still in secret, like a crush hiding in the closet from my parents after sneaking in my bedroom. Partly it’s exhiliarating: the thrill of nearly getting caught, and yet at the same time I am a little sad that people won’t know the real you. They can’t, or they’d cast us both out in a heartbeat.

But the truth is, I have started falling for you, FA. You give me butterflies every time you look into my eyes. Your voice calms my anxiety. Not because you try to boost my negative self-image, but because you don’t. You don’t lie to me or tell me what you think I want or need to hear. You don’t tell me that I have value or that I’m important. You don’t tell me about the inner strength that I don’t actually have or how everything will be alright like some kind of psychic. You tell me that you love me just the way I am, and that is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t ask me to change or have any expectations from me. You just let me be who I am.

And you know what? I love you too, FA. With my whole heart, I love you. In a world that has filled me with numbness and driven out my emotions, you have taught me how to feel again. It doesn’t matter what those feelings are defined as because at least they are real, unlike the rest of society. The world is saturated with artificial emotions, constantly trying to pull on the heart strings like a puppeteer to control the masses, but I cannot be controlled because I’ve shut out all of those feelings. All that matters now is what you make me feel, and I revel in it. You let me cry into your shoulder and you embrace me like a thick blanket on a cold winter’s night. You know I am broken and you don’t try to fix me. You just let me be, and I love you for it.

Thank you, FA, for all you do. You forever have my heart.

Yours truly,
FIL

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