I crown you the King of my heart
I trust nobody.
As a human being, there is one fact I know to be undeniably true: every human being is flawed. You cannot depend on another person for your mental health, or trust another human with your sanity. It is foolish to do so, and will bring about your inevitable undoing. A man on a ledge who gave the task of fixing his mind to another man, is not a victim of life, he is a victim of a natural consequence of his actions.
Blind faith. If you truly believe that a support system of friends and family is all you need to survive in this world, you will not survive. It may seem like you have stability, acting according to society’s definition of “normal”, “healthy”, whatever that even means. You don’t. You're in denial.
Complete trust in another human will only result in being disappointed when they are negligent of your feelings, or being disappointed when they try to fix you, believing themselves to be all-powerful gods who are superior to your flaws, ignorant of their own. Either way, disappointment is inevitable. The only person you can trust, the only one whom you've known all your life, whose every thought you're familiar with, is your own flawed self.
Yet despite all this, our cynicism, our former belief that true love isn’t real and that faith is a fickle thing, I completely trust you. It was a battle with the long-held beliefs made concrete as truths in my mind. I was certain that to open up my heart would be equal to goad the bully into beating me up, to invite karma and whatever other forces exist out there to toy with me, with us, to disrupt our natural balance, upset the scales and cause the weights to drop on our feet and make us feel pain.
It's painful being so far away from you. I always said, we agreed, long distance was never an option, but love is lawless and allows you to change your mind, to adapt to the circumstances and try new things. Sometimes my heart hurts as it stretches to bear the weight of the lack of weight of your body against mine, your absence, the empty space in my bed, in my arms. I admit, I may feel the tiniest pang of jealousy when you mention another woman or female colleague. Perhaps it's not jealousy, but envy. I'm consumed with envy that these people are able to see your face every day, to hear you speak, to have the pleasure of being able to have a face-to-face conversation and breathe the same air as you.
You are the first man to love me for who I am, to see me for all angles, to never be disgusted or horrified or ashamed of being seen with me. To kiss me in public. To apologise for hurting me, even when the pain was predetermined by the condition of my existence. To love me in the morning, without make-up. You have never once tried to fix me. You let me leave mascara stains on your polo shirts without saying a word, you just held me, listened and let me be. You are a human antidepressant, giving me more confidence in my physical appearance, more motivation to improve my life, more reasons to live. That is why I completely trust you. You do all this, sometimes without intending to. You wish nothing but happiness for me, and derive happiness from being a part of my life. Our love is uncontaminated, despite everything. In a world regulated by relativism, it's an absolute truth.
For the first time, I don't feel used, a means to an end. I feel loved. You have taken over me. And I willingly let you.
This is your written coronation. I officially crown you the King of my heart.
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