On loving unconditionally

"I want to be single for a while," he said.

My heart skipped a beat.

"I feel trapped in this relationship," he said.

I felt a lump form in my throat and tears well in my eyes. It was happening again. The same line, "I feel trapped."

"I love you and I want to be with you, but I want to be single more," he said.

The same. They love me but want something else.

I'm pissed. I want to scream at him and shake him and tell him he's an idiot. He loves me. I can see that he loves me. You shouldn't give up on love. The grass on the single side isn't as green as it looks. You can find yourself while with me.

I also understand. Self discovery is a fantasy we're all fed. It's part of the millennial frame of mind. And it isn't all bad. There's something to learning to define yourself instead of being defined by the person you're with or by your family or your friends. There's something to chasing your dreams, uninhibited by another person. But I firmly believe there's also something to having a partner in crime. To having someone upon whom you can always rely, even when things go to shit. Even when your dreams evade you. Even when others betray you.

I'm also incredibly sad. I want to be with you. I wrote you an unsent letter telling you I want to "marry" you--to commit to you. I wouldn't mind being with you forever. I want your soft skin forever. I want your kisses forever. I want your hips. I want your happy trail. I want the freckle that's near your belly button. The skin tag on your neck. The feeling of our hands interlocking. Your breath upon my neck. Your hands to open jars. Your laugh to make me smile. I want you. Only you.

And I also completely love you. Even still. Even as my eyes fill with tears and my stomach turns to knots and my throat develops lumps and my heart races. Even as you break my heart and make me feel wholly unwanted, wholly unlovable, wholly broken. I want you to know that I love you regardless of what you're going through. I want you to know that my love isn't dependent upon you being with me, or upon you wanting me, or even upon you loving me. My love is unconditional.

So I kiss you and tell you it's okay and that I love you. And I rub your back. And I bring you food when you're hungry. And I bake bread for you. And I hug you tight. Because I want you to know that I love you. Unconditionally. Even if you can't be mine right now.

Maybe I'm a masochist for being this way. Maybe I'm this way because I was presented with a flawed view of love growing up. Or maybe this is right. The reasons don't matter, though. The fact is I love you despite, regardless, without condition.

I pray you come home to me before time and fate run away from us. I pray you take this time alone to get whatever it is you need, and that you come home. And I pray that I'll be in a position to welcome you home. Either way, I'll love you still. I promise. Unconditionally.