I have everything... yet I don't have him

[Doesn'tMatterWho]

Please forgive me in advance for the long post - I just know that I'm going to rant incessantly, and rant, and rant... I'm sorry.

I shall start off by saying I'm incredibly ungrateful. I've almost died at birth, yet I survived with no harm afterwards. I grew up a healthy child. I had a good childhood. My parents gave me all I wanted and more. Sure, my father took his life when I was 10, and yes, our life got worse afterwards... but it was still okay. Sure, I had issues at home. Sure, I had issues with friends. Above all else, I had issues with myself. Depression, anxiety and self-destructive tendencies have taken their toll. And still... I shouldn't complain. I coped with my mother gaslighting me to become a dentist, even though I never wanted it. I graduated. And I'm about to start working in the same dental office my father used to work at before he died. I already have a bunch of patients waiting for me to just start working once I get all my licenses. Life is good. I've been so, so blessed!

And yet... it hurts.

I see how the few friends I've ever had are slowly moving on with their own lives. Everyone has moved to other cities, whereas I remain in the same sh*thole (pardon my French). I never meet anyone new - mom might get jealous because I'm spending time with anyone but her. I devote all of my time to her and my maternal grandma. Both have health problems, so the guilt of me abandoning them wouldn't allow me to just leave. But they've become the only people I interact with. I honestly cannot wait until I start working just so I'd have an excuse to be away from the prison cell I call a home. Or the home I call a prison cell - whatever suits you. And yet I am well aware that I will only be creating another prison cell for myself.

The dental office is my future prison. Because it always reminds me of my lack of choice in my future. Every time I remember what dreams I had before dentistry, it all cuts through me like a scalpel without anesthesia. And there are no stitches or gauze to soothe me. But among those painful memories, the most horrifying is that of something I have loved with all my heart... Someone.

He was everything I was not. He was an ocean of gold and sunlight; I was a dirty swamp of ashy grey. He was joyful, bubbly, talkative; I was afraid of my own voice. He was in love with dentistry; I hated it, but loved him. He did not reciprocate. Only saw me as a friend. He probably forgot about it the next day. I hoped I would, too... and yet it's been over two years, and it still hurts the same way. I still cry the same tears. I still take the same pills to calm my arrhythmic, shattered into pieces, blackened heart. I still recall the poems I wrote about him, even though I burned them all to ashes. Thought it would make me forget... How can I forget his angelic dark blue frame under the huge black umbrella in the April afternoon rain? How could I forget how the light of day came alive only in the amber pool of his eyes? How could I forget his sleepy little smile that radiated under the sunlight in the copper and golden tones of his skin? How could I forget the sweet lullaby of his sweet, innocent voice? How can I forget...? How? How...

Some other men have come after him. I never even looked at them. I don't remember their names. All have been conventionally more beautiful than him (friends would tell me to "forget that ugly midget who only has teeth on his mind"). I would assume those other men would make a far better partner than he ever would. Yet I never let any of them in. Because one man out there arrived in my heart as a pleasant intruder, broke all the furniture on accident, then walked out with a polite apology and locked the door, but lost the key. Now nobody can ever enter again.

My heart is bruised up, torn, shattered, cold as any piece of meat in any average slaughterhouse. To all, I am merely a heartless butcher, as I cut everyone off instantly. It's not out of cruelty... but out of a sick, twisted sense of loyalty. The sweet little man who haunted me still lives in my memory... and my pocket. I used to paint landscapes and gift them to him just to see him smile. And he did. A few months ago, it was one of the last times I ever saw him. I knew it'd be one of the last times. I saw him, but he didn't see me. Maybe it was for the better. As I watched him through my own tears, he was simply staring at his phone in the distance, blissfully unaware of my presence a few metres away. He wore the same dark blue jacket. His face still shined the same way in the golden light of the sun. And he still had that tiny subtle smile. The joyful little smile that never faded... No, I couldn't let it fade away! No... And as he walked away, oblivious to the fact he had been watched, I gazed at him from afar, crying. I swore I would not allow this moment to die. I walked back to my place, I broke down crying in my room. I wanted to do something terrible to myself - thankfully, I didn't. Because I had a mission. I had painted many landscapes, but never cared to draw people. Yet I drew him - just as I had seen him that day. A grey sketch could never match all the colours of his grace. Still, the few who have seen the tiny portrait confirm it's as though someone has taken a photo of him. Of course, I won't post it here, but let me tell you - I keep a small photocopy of it in my wallet all the time. No logical reason could ever justify this. It makes no sense... But even without the portrait, his face never leaves my mind. I constantly think of him. And every single time, two thoughts of mine cross paths in my mind: "this is pure agony" and "I still swear to remain faithful". And now... I see how my life is slowly morphing into his life - I've abandoned everything else just to completely occupy my mind with teeth, composite, ceramics, calcium hydroxide, blood vessels and nerves, just so I wouldn't think about the void in my ribcage. I loved him and suffered after he rejected me over his true love of science... and then I got married to the science that he had fallen in love with. A marriage without love - just a contract.

... I used to look at the stars and think how there might be someone out there for me who's looking at the same stars with the same loneliness in their heart. But after this heartbreak and after this torturous limerence, I'm not sure anymore. I will carry on with my current life for a while - perhaps until my grandma and mom die. After that... I don't know. If I were my teenage self, I'd consider ending it all. Now... I joke that I might as well become a nun. But oh Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner - it is not out of heavenly love that I seek refuge within Thee. Alas, it is out of maniacal, disgusting, selfish, possessive love of the most earthly kind. And yet it is an honest love. Because even though it will never be reciprocated... even though the one I love might have already forgotten I exist... even though I might never ever see him again, and even though he will only live on in my distorted memories and pitiful dreams... he is the only one whom I can love.

... I love you, A. I love you forever. Forgive me for it.