It’s a love of comfort, a love of familiarity – it’s a love you feel when you’re home.

A letter to an old love. An addiction I somehow overcame.

I gave in again. I keep telling myself it will be the last time. Why are you a weakness for me? I know we won’t be together, especially now when you’ve committed to her. You love her – you talk about her all the time. You tell the world how amazing she is and how happy she makes you. If that’s true how can you still want me? How can you still kiss me and be intimate with me? Why do I let myself love you? Do I love you?

The older I get and the more ‘love’ I feel, the more I realize how many different types of love are out there. The love I have for you isn’t the smitten, butterfly-feeling, puppy-love. It’s not the ‘I want to be with you forever and have kids with you’ kind of love. It’s not an in-love kind of love. It’s a love of comfort, a love of familiarity – it’s a love you feel when you’re home. There’s a sense of familiarity when our bodies entwine themselves together. There’s a comfort in the way you make me smile. There’s feelings of trust I don’t have with anyone else. You’re one of my best friends. I can talk to you about anything and you don’t judge me. You only speak the truth to me, even if it hurts – especially if it hurts.

But you can’t love me – there’s no way. You can’t love me if you continuously allow me to be yours whenever it’s convenient for you but only give yourself to me physically. You love yourself. It’s your biggest downfall. We need to stop doing this. It’s not fair to me and it’s definitely not fair to her. It’s been months of this. You broke my heart in a million pieces once and I stopped the ‘being in love’ part of loving you. I pushed you away and said I was done. Then we started again somehow – you and I both always try to end this. But here we are, giving in again. I wonder if this was the last time, I think we need for it to be. But the thought of not being with you again hurts me in a different kind of way.

It’s not the makes-me-cry kind of hurt. It’s not the kind of hurt where I need a night out with the girls or a rebound hookup kind of hurt. It’s the kind of hurt that punches you in the gut and leaves you feeling empty.

So I don’t think this was the last time. I don’t want to stop giving into you – not yet. Not until I know why you say you love me when you’re making love to me. Not until I know why we miss each other when it’s been some time since we’ve spent time together. I won’t stop giving into you until I know why you chose to give yourself to her and not to me. I’m not ready for our goodbye. If I’m being honest, I’ll never be satisfied with us just being friends.

You’re my safety – you feel like home to me – and there’s no place like home. I don’t feel comfortable with anyone else. How can I? My walls are built and my doors are locked and you’re the only one who has the key.

  • The Dalema, 2015