A glimpse of truth

It was only when I got back to my room this morning that I realized my love (for want of a less frivolous word) for him is unconditional.

It’s the first time I have felt this way. He will continue I am certain, unknowingly perhaps, with being distant, treating me like a difficult child, placing me last on his list of priorities, but that won’t stop me from being there. And it’s not because I’m being a martyr, or being selfless, or in love with him. It’s because this ‘thing’ – I can’t call it love or a feeling or emotion which seem such transient, vaporous descriptors – it’s because this thing is unromantic, unsentimental, unoverwhelming – it’s just there, just present, very real, almost parental in that respect. I will always want to ease away his stress and hug him when he’s hurting. When I touch his wide forehead, skinny calves, knobbly knees, crooked smile, his back – it’s as if his body were mine.


We are not going to end up together, of this I am sure. We share a comfortable pessimism. Bad karma from previous lives has made this one not so bright for either of us, and we have shared conversations which regular people would find cynical and blighted. It’s nice to sweep away the ‘Look on the brighter side’s and ‘C’mon, look outside life is beautiful!’s. Life is unfair and dreams are elusive. The true beauty of life can be more joyously experienced when you accept these truths.

We accept each other completely – our so-called immoralities, his vices, my weaknesses. So why do I say we won’t end up together? As he said, we’re not lovers, we’re friends. Friends who are too smart to allow a relationship to come between them.