sometimes letting go requires feeling the ache...

It was early. About an hour before the alarm meant to go off. I woke up and just hurt. My body felt heavy and I couldn't sink into it enough. Tears. Just a few. It was uncomfortable to feel that ache—an ache for him. I can't even remember what kissing or touching him feels like. I just remember how much I loved him. I loved him so. September. Our first trip together. The first time he let himself be. He would pull me in and rest his head on my shoulder in the airport. He was expressive in the ways I craved for nearly a year. I remember coming back. All forms of public transit transitioning us to the hectic city, each one more and more crowded. The subway in Penn Station was full of lines and commotion. We ran into one of my friends and didn't get a moment to really say goodbye. We took the train one stop and before I got off I held him tight and said, "I love you." I didn't apologize after, which I had done so many times before because those words were always "too much" and "he wasn't sure how he felt about me" and "he wasn't in a place to be a boyfriend" or "have a relationship". I pushed my way through the crowd and got off the train. I asked my friend for a hug and a joke to avoid tears. I just loved him so much and it hurt. I was embarrassed. I think I knew that the only time he could actually be was when he was away from the city, the distractions. In those moments, he was able to express his love for me. I do believe he loved me, even then. I am not sure he was ever "in love" with me, which is why those trips seemed so important - albeit unsustainable - because he let himself do the things someone does when they are "in love". We should have taken the full day, but he wanted to come back early so he could work. So telling. This was always met with regret on the few trips taken together, "we should have just taken the full day". I would always tell him we could on the next trip. We never did. At the office I fell back into the worry. The wondering if I should contact him first. The deciding to wait because he was honest. Which is why when I got an email from him an hour into being back that said, "I miss Key West", I knew that meant he missed me too. And so I stayed. I waited for each moment like that. That would let me feel what I really believe he felt, love, but couldn't express. And so I stayed, until "he couldn't do it anymore" and I did not fight it because I couldn't fight for him anymore. Time. Space. Time. The heartache of loving someone is just that. An ache. Heavy and dull. It lasts for a moment. Tears may fall. But it does go away. As I move ahead, the signs are clearer. The intuition is stronger. The self-love is a c t u a l l y there and being with moments of being uncomfortable - including that ache - help me to be patient, let go, and make room for more - including love.