The text (shouting into the Void): I'd like to see you so I can talk to you soon. I've been doing fine, but today a lot of realizations went off in my head. I know you barely have time to breathe, but the sooner I can see you the better. You were the only man or boy I had been with who appreciated the way my brain worked, and it validated my feeling that there is in fact nothing wrong with me or my brain; you understood me. When you said you didn't love me anymore, you took that away, and I think that's really what hurt so much. It's like you took it all back. This isn't me begging for us to get back together, but there's so much I need to tell you I just have to get it out of my head. There's so much more.
The rest (whispering to myself, wishing the Void would respond): It's not that I don't think my brain works fine-- I do, and it just works in its own individual way. I think that because of how my brain works, I notice things that other people might not. So it's not my mind that's beautiful, it's the world that is beautiful, and I happen to notice different, less-noticed parts of it. And I think you knew this about me-- and you appreciated me, and the odd way my brain worked, and not even my own mother can appreciate me in that way. She thinks I need to fix my brain with drugs, and she thinks this because she has been taught to think she or her brain is defective/broken, and because she blames herself for everything and is so hard on herself, she thinks I am broken too and that I need to fix my abnormalities chemically-- instead of learning to love and embrace them. I felt like you loved and embraced my abnormalities. I thought you were so wonderful. And the thought that we can't teach these things to our children makes me cry-- and, in fact, I'm writing these things as I'm crying and because I'm crying-- because I need to get them out of my head and I can't talk to you. I don't think love is a feeling or an emotion, Kevin. And I don't believe there is such a thing as "true love" in the westernized, Walt Disney way we've been taught to believe in. I believe love is something that just exists. And if we are receptive enough, we can tap into love-- be it a force or a state of being. Love is present in the inter-connectedness of everything. I view love as another word for God, but not in that cheesy way some Protestant Pastor would ramble masturbatorily on about. The human experience of love elicits feelings-- usually good feelings-- in individuals and couples. I do not think your feelings changing was a totally valid reason for you abandoning me in our relationship. And that's what you did; you abandoned me, you dumped me like I was garbage; you forgot that you told me I had a beautiful mind-- but I didn't. And when I heard "my feelings changed," what I heard was "I don't love you anymore, I changed my mind and I don't think your mind works right, I never loved you or your mind to begin with." I think you have confused love with emotion. Love exists whether we tap into it or not, and I wanted to spend my life witnessing all the small miracles with you. I wanted to hold hands as we witnessed the tiny miracles and the great tragedies and the small deaths and the yearly rebirth of Spring. I wanted to have you by my side. I wanted you to be my second set of eyes, my second heart. I wanted us to help one another to feel and see and experience the things we couldn't feel or see or experience on our own. And I wanted to get to know one another better in the process.
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