Emma, if you’re reading this…

These ‘poisoned memory’ posts have been entered into their own category for a reason.

I’ve written the web address for this category inside an origami crane. When I next see you, Emma, I will give you that crane.

And instruct you to only read the inside when you feel ready…

If you never feel ready, I’m sorry. Forgive me.

But if you do feel ready, I insist you read the posts in their intended emotional state: Me remembering every minute we spent together over and over again. Because as much as those moments make me cry with a sadness at this moment in time (hence the term ‘poisoned’), I live in hope that they can once again become the pure joy I know they can be: Treasured.

I’m my own man. I’m a smiley, happy soul. I’m totally in control of my own happiness and always will be. But sometimes I take that happiness and invest it into people. People I care about. There are not many of those people in my life. People who I entrust with my own little pockets of happiness.

Would you like to know why? Becuase people cannot be trusted. They abuse you and hurt you. I’ve learnt this the hard way. I gave so much of myself out to people when I was younger, that by the time I went to University, I had nothing of myself left to give. I went through those years slowly losing all confidence in myself.

Eventually, I started to build my happiness back up, through friendships with people like Karly and Leon. 

I want you to know. That I’m not happy right now, because every inch of happiness I had I invested in you. Because my love for you is so complete. So utterly true that, to me, you are perfect.

I don’t live in a happy home. I’m constantly put down by my father, and my brother doesn’t understand my sensitivity. I feel that even my own mother has difficulty understanding how I feel. I struggle to open up to any of them.

It saddens me to say, but I feel alone in my own home a lot of the time.

So, it is only natural for me to look outside of my home for love and affection. Because I don’t have what I need there.

This means that when I like someone I’m usually a bit intense with them and I scare myself. So, I began to hold myself back. Bypass being close to people – because it always ended up in pain for me.

When we met up, even before, I felt like I could instantly trust you. I don’t know what it was, but something I saw in you led me to trust you implicitly. And that feeling knocked down every barrier I had protecting my heart. I tried to restrain myself. But it didn’t work. But, rather than run away, you stayed. And stuck with me. Because you felt the same way about me as I did you. That’s rare in my book. To be so in sync with someone that nothing you say can scare them away…

We had that. I even knew you were the one. The one I could finally, honestly, say “I Love You” to. And I do not regret it. Even though I went through more pain than I’ve ever felt before. I’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.

Because I still Love you. I think, deep down, I loved you from the moment I saw you in the shop back in October. When I came to say hello. And you blushed because I’d startled you. That was the moment I decided I wanted to see you again. Right there. In that single moment. I think I knew what you’d mean to me.

I could have walked away and said nothing more. But instead, I went against my fears and asked you for a date. You obliged. And the rest, the rest of our time together, is split up into my memories.

Memories I’ve shared in these posts. Because I needed to get them out of my head. I want you to see what you mean to me. If you ever have any doubts. Because I cannot believe that this love is destined to fail.

If there is a single part of you, no matter how small, that loves me? Then know that I’m here. Waiting for you. Forever. Just like I promised…

Please read the posts in numerical order. Know that I’m a mere message away from you. And only that far. Whether I’m in Westgate or New Zealand, whether this is one months time or 10 years: I’ll always be here waiting for you…


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