If only I could view him merely for who he is devoid of my own baggage.
If only he could view me for what I am because of my baggage.
If only he could understand that when you keep yourself emotionally closeted for over 25 years, then even once the walls break down, it still takes years before you actually feel free. Like having a ghost limb.
If only we were not looking through such different looking glasses, his crystal clear with only black or white, mine murky in shades of grey.
But then when has life or love been that easy.
I love him for his simplicity. He is without any hidden agenda. But his simplicity makes it hard for him to accept my complexity. He doesn’t understand why I cannot think like a ‘we’. I want to. But I have been an ‘I’ for so long that I don’t know how to be a ‘we’. Talking it out before taking a decision is a couple thing to do. But when you have spent years having to have all discussions within the confines of your own head because its too risky to vocalize every thought, and then had to weigh every word before delivering it, and more importantly take every decision yourself because there was no one else to lean on – ‘discussing as a couple before deciding’ is almost counter-intuitive.
We have a lot to work on. And lucky for me, he’s willing to put in the work. We talk about it and work it out.
If only it were easy for me to really talk.
Written in response to the Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday “if.”