My Quora has been filled with philosophy and passion these last couple of weeks. I go into rabbit holes and interesting tangents. It feels good to both gain knowledge and see what's actually out there happening in the world. It feels good to know there are more people out there, struggling and thriving, just like us. We are all walking juxtapositions and to be frank, it's hilarious. It's relatable. It's real, and just knowing that we can simultaneously be two complete opposite things, makes me feel somewhat sane. Every once in a while, my ability to rationalize gets clouded by the things my brain can't seem to fathom...
How do you let someone love you, even if you know you're too broken for them?
The responses on this question ranged everywhere on the scale of optimism and pessimism. Some took the metaphorical approach, others reached out for the literal, so these wide responses got me thinking. And the more I think about it, the more I realize, this kinda hit me hard.
After my last response got into the limelight of Quora, I'm just going to leave this here.
I know that he loves me. And I to him, no doubt.
Words can't express the ways I feel for him. Or even the ways he makes me feel...
I do know, however, that if I were to let him love me longer, we will be hurt... the thing is, I know I am okay with hurting for a while if it means saving him. My brokenness, although empowering, is work. It's work to be with me. Despite all of my optimism, I am falling apart from the inside out.
My legs aren't doing that thing that most legs do. Walking- a second nature, is becoming more and more difficult. Unless I actively think about each individual step along with the way my foot taps the ground, I fall, trip, and ache for days on end.
It's a chore to pace the stairs to my apartment.
Ordinarily, I'd be somewhat okay with it. Because I've been overcoming these inconveniences my whole recent life.
All of that aside, I could imagine us laughing over nothing at breakfast.
I can see our children bouncing up and down just waiting for him to come home from work.
I can almost picture our wedding day, but when I think that far up, it gets blurred.
It's blurred because I can't imagine going down the isle in a white gown, just to look and see the waists of those around me.
It's blurred because I can't imagine being in a wheelchair to start the beginning of my life with the man I love.
So maybe it's not that I'm too broken for him, maybe I'm too broken for myself to share with him.
