We have these moments of clarity, you know – sometimes long after an event. When the perturbations have settled like sand on a beach who’s tide has never again returned high enough to create turbulence and turbidity. Only then, regarding the dusty footprint of us, can I understand why I loved you, why I love you. Your sensitive heart was very early disguised by postures of predictability and rationality – qualities you looked for in another. But inside, the tension between this creative heart and the desire for safety never fully reconciled. There wasn’t an inward acceptance of this binary nature – it seemed a contradiction, a hypocrisy. The outer world of contradictions and the hypocritical people within it then looked untrustworthy – as well we may be. The fight against a lack of predictability can itself becomes unreasonable. Unreasonable requests do not come from a place of quiet introspection – they provoke their like when received by another. There is in all of us a need to be understood, and understood in a way that we may not even be able to understand ourselves.
Only now, when the motivations based on what I might want and need from you seem to have left, can I tell you what I think of you in as honest a way as I can. I’m not getting anything out of telling you I loved you, I love you – it is not a request for reciprocation. When I first told you I loved you it was a form of manipulation, as it was when you replied. Telling someone something in order to manipulate them is not loving behaviour. I don’t want to manipulate you, or anyone else anymore. What I want to do now – my motivation for writing this – is to try to articulate what I’m feeling, the shape of the emotion that is present when I think of you. Maybe this will be something you want to hear. I hope it is.
There is no reason to love you. There is no later reward or value that could eclipse the unpredictable and ephemeral depth of love. Who knows what the next moment would hold – love, anger, fear. You are loved only when the one loving has no reason to do it. I had my reasons in the past, and so did you. And therefore, I didn’t really love you – although I wanted to love you. And, I would say you didn’t love me – at least not as well as you might when you no longer have any motivation to. It is a paradox, that only when it is too late to gain from love do we find out what it is.