“Everything happens for a reason but not everything that happened needed to, because there were some things that didn’t happen, that we needed too.”
-M
Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirrors in Atlanta
Young men tend to often fumble; their words, opportunities, and the hearts of others. Sweaty palms, inexperience, and the hubris of having more days ahead than at your back, can all make the rationale of embracing the wrong choices seem sound. Many of us learned the love language of reaching for excuses first, and then exits; we missed the lesson on understanding. The only love we know, is the kind that atrophies. So it makes since when the tighter one holds on, the weaker his grip grows.
There is more safety in being with someone who looks at you like glass, whether you’ve come apart or are only threatening to under the weight of life. Stay close to people who also see themselves when they see through you. Trust the men who watch their hands when they lay eyes on your vulnerability; they will try to hold on delicately. Not everyone is here to cause pain. I did drop you - guilty. I was never throwing you down though and I too, wept at the sight of the shards.
I hate that our history is made of pages where we take turns breaking each other, but somehow we still see one another, maybe even clearer now. Perhaps, this was all a part of the process to become better through the heat and fire of emotion. Science tells me that glass can be recycled without a loss in its quality or purity, and my heart says your real power was never in the parts that could be broken. In the end we still see each other, and we are reminded that all mirrors start as clear glass. Even given these details the truth remains undeniable: only a reflection is ever needed to see yourself when it matters most.
Clear Truth
The lesson is in letting go, at the right time, and in the right way, before all is made to come to pieces. This is what we take on the slowest, and never before we need to. This is why we end up writing more apologies than love letters.
-M
P.S. I am sorry.