My story with Miss H.

It’s written in a little card. Just a little cute card, as cute and little as her. I read those words every now and then. They are stored in this card, which is tucked in this teeny tiny envelop that safely lays in between the pages of my journal. I stumble on it every now and then and when this happens, my fingers are always pulled to open it. I know exactly what is written in this little cute card and yet, it gets to me every freakin’ time. It’s not long, just a few well put phrases. I lay my eyes on the paper, recognize her handwriting, start assembling the words one after the other and I hear her voice reading them to me. And then I cry. I cry just a little, just a few tears wetting my eyes and rolling down my cheeks, no sobs or running make-up, but enough to feel a lump in my throat. And I remember how much my life is an empty hole without her in it. Someone took away a piece of my puzzle and I can’t put the picture together anymore. I couldn’t tell you in precise facts or moments how she became such a big part of me, but she grew like a tree, spreading roots in every direction and little by little wrapping me up like a life jacket. She was my emotional life jacket. I couldn’t make a decision without sharing my thoughts with her first and listening to hers. She was my rock through stormy weather and my ray of sun on quiet seas. I would cry and laugh often simultaneously in her company. Slowly but surely she made herself a comfy bed in my heart, leaving behind only a mess of cold sheets when she moved away.

She moved across the ocean and across the next continent. She ventured back “home” for her but in unexplored and out of space territories for me. She was getting back to her previous life and I was scared. Scared she would close the parenthesis of her time in Brussels, remembering it like a dream, vaguely and from afar, like an old box gathering dust, left behind, in the past… She is like those beautiful things you can never grasp, like a mellow cloud or a shooting star. And I was scared she would have just passed through my life as smoothly and quickly as these do through the sky.

She is the one popping in my mind and giving me comfort whenever I feel small and broken. She is the one I have a thought for in times of joy and happiness. My heart breaks a little whenever I realize that she is again not there to live it with me. She is the one I wish I’d get an email of in my inbox every morning, the one I would want to hug for no freakin’ reason every day. She is, for me, what some call their special person, the one you bond with and you don’t even really remember how or why. But you bond, almost instantaneously you bond. You meet and you feel a connection. You read it in her ways, in the way she looks at you, you feel it in your guts.

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing romantic in all of that, or maybe there is but not in the common sense of the word. It is indeed love, but it is a stronger love than romantic love. It is the kind of love that is commonly referred to as siblings love. Even though, I don’t completely agree with the term as I have never had such a strong connection to my brother, for instance. Yes, we share the same genes and blood but we are just not on the same page. She and I, I feel like our souls reached to one another. I feel like it was no coincidence that our paths crossed. It is encounters like this that make you wonder if there isn’t indeed a destiny for each of us.

This all might sound cheesy, I know. And I am not saying that she is perfect. Perfect is boring. She has her flaws, like we all do. And yes they annoy me at times, just as my flaws annoy her at times too, I guess. But her heart is so big that when I see her smile or read a few words from her it makes everything okay. I love her like I never loved anyone before. I am not in love with her, I just love her.  And when you truly love someone, you love every part of them. Just as it does in romantic love, distance sucks in true friendships. I want her to be near me all the time. I want her to be the first I can call when I am taking an important step in my life and I want her to be able to do the same with me when something big happens in her life.

I never had a sister but I wish that if I did, we’d have a relationship like the one I have with her. Even though, I’m pretty sure that I love her in an overwhelming way for her and that she loves me back but probably not as much, or in a different way, I will always love her no matter what. I was never big on friends growing up. As a teenager I would dream of lifelong friendships, of growing up in the same little town and being surrounded by people who, I knew, would always be there for me and me for them because we would have known each other forever. A chosen family. And I know I am not a marginal case, or else shows like Dawson’s Creek would never have had the success they got. But I am getting off subject here… This to say that she is my chosen family.

I love her and maybe I even fell a little bit in love with her too. Heck, I don’t know anyone who hasn’t! My biggest frustration is that I have to share her with others. I sometimes secretly wish she’d be a bit more of a loner like me so that I could have her all for me. But then, we’d probably wouldn’t be what we are now. And I have to learn to share anyway. I know that I’m emotionally very demanding. I get frustrated, then pissed and then, I hold a grudge. But that’s where it’s different with her: I can never hold a grudge against her.

I love her with no restrictions. And I wish I’ll find one day someone to romantically love that way and share my life with, someone who will be able to read me like she does, who’d see through my mask with her clarity.  Miss H., this is my declaration of love to you: You should have been a man. Then all would have been perfect and we could have been living happily ever after! ;)