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“I’m
sorry, I just don’t really remember…”
His
words tore through me, piercing every inch of my body
and cutting jaggedly through my heart. Just one week
earlier, we had watched the sun set and held each other.
He comforted me while I asked him why my best friend and
I just couldn’t get along anymore. But tonight, his
mind was somewhere else; he couldn’t remember that
special night.
Why
was he so distant? Was he so lost in the pain that had
been haunting him for so long?
There
were nights he cried himself to sleep, remembering the
harsh words of his mother. He told me how much he
dreaded the weekends spent with her, because it meant
another seventy-two hours of being blamed for everything
that went wrong. The nagging didn’t stop- she harassed
him because his grades were lower than his brother’s
and he wasn’t the perfect son she wanted him to be.
She said he was dumb; that he wouldn’t get into
college, wouldn’t succeed in life. She called him a
loser, a disappointment to her. His gift at art was
undeniable, yet her criticism caused him to believe he
had no talent, when actually, he was winning prizes for
his work.
What
kept him alive, he told me, was our love. Friends for
years, and now dating, he needed me. He counted on me.
In one letter I received from him, he said, “You’re
like my family. Just you. We can be a family. Do you
need anyone else? I don’t. Just keep loving me,” he
wrote, “and I’ll be okay.”
For
a while, I believed him. I promised I would never hurt
him like she had, never leave him, never stop loving
him. I would be his family; the one he needed in good
times and in bad, the one who held him when he was sick
and cheered for him at track meets. I thought that if I
held him tightly enough, his pain would disappear.
It
was like a roller coaster, though, our relationship.
Sometimes, he was the happiest kid I knew- laughing,
joking, smiling and kissing. I always knew if he was
happy by his eyes. Crystal clear and blue, they told me
no lies. If he was happy, they sparkled. But if he was
sad, they seemed more gray than blue. On those days, he
didn’t joke. When I tried to cheer him with a kiss, he
would refuse. He wouldn’t let me touch him. I
couldn’t show him how much I loved him. When he was
hurt, all he knew was to return the hurt to those
undeserving. He said things he knew were cruel,
apologizing the next day. The cycle never ended- the
cruelties, the apologies. Yet I knew why.
Though
I loved him, I couldn’t take away the pain. It stemmed
from events that occurred long before I knew him. Soon I
realized my love couldn’t compete with his inner pain.
Though it hurts, I realized that I couldn’t help him;
rather, he had to seek professional help. I had to let
him go.
The
night I told him this couldn’t continue, the tears
stung my eyes more painfully than ever before. He now
would have to face his worst fear- to be alone to
confront the real demons within him. He thought I had
deceived him, that I lied to him when I whispered the
word forever. But I hadn’t lied to anyone but myself
because I believed that all he needed was my love. Right
now, my love was only causing pain.
He
had built a separate world, in which only he and I
existed. For a while, it had been nice to dream of such
a happy place, a mystical Eden for just the two of us.
Before long, however, I knew the walls would crumble if
he kept relying only on me. Deep down I knew it wasn’t
healthy for either of us. I simply couldn’t hold on to
us and this fantasy any longer.
Yesterday,
I saw him for the first time in a year. His eyes
sparkled, and the light came from within. The darkness
is lifting because he allowed other people in his life,
people who helped him in more ways than I ever could
have done on my own. Now, he sees the special gifts that
he has, and although the painful memories will always
remain, he is now beginning to believe in himself.
Yesterday, I realized that even perfect love can’t
protect someone from himself. And, sometimes, the most
loving thing you can do for someone is to let him go.
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