• Sophia Marie George

Seeing Myself in You

Updated: Jan 10

"Seeing Myself in You"

I can see it in the way that you talk, the way that you approach the day—tired, but on the lookout for some kind of hope. I see it in the way that you walk, with your bulky headphones on and your surprisingly youthful tennis shoes that carry you along your unpredictable, twisted path. I don’t know how to explain it to you. You remember everyone’s name, and you are so kind, in such a depressing way. You have this amazing smile for those you barely know. You look at people with your beautiful blue eyes; it’s like you see our souls and invite us to see yours. You make people forget what they’re going to say because you just stare so humanly. Humanly, but it feels so other-worldly; I don’t know how to explain it.

And I can recognize all of this because I see myself in you. I see all of my lonely characteristics --how you’re overly nice, how you give smiles to people passing by whom you hardly know, how you listen to depressive music in your headphones and make the world into a music video. I just know you listen to The Smiths; it just makes sense for people like us. You self-deprecatingly make fun of your sorrow instead of ask to be pitied, calling yourself a loner who doesn’t “partake” in Valentine’s day.

I don’t want you to be lonely because it would prove something about myself that I wish wasn’t true. You’re a hopeless romantic, of course; I can just tell. Like me. We’re further similar in that regard. So, you’ve definitely searched for love; you’ve worked hard to try to attain it. But, if you haven’t found it yet at your age, and, don’t ever find it, what does that mean for me? I’m sorry to sound so horrible, but I am so scared to end up like you, without someone to love and to love me back. I feel like life is playing a cruel joke on both of us—that the most hopeless romantics will never find true love but will have to watch as those who didn’t spend every waking hour writing and listening to sad love songs achieve their amazing, real-life love stories. I guess those souls who anxiously fear death are going to die young while those who didn’t spend a substantial amount of their youth crying about the uncertainty of an afterlife will live until 100.

I know that it’s selfish, what I want for you—how I want your happiness to be achieved for my own purposes, not necessarily for yours. But at the same time, I have this overwhelming empathy that makes me confuse my feelings for you, my desire for you to not be lonely, for true love. I honestly can’t understand my feelings ever, how to discern infatuation from love and obsession. I have this tendency to fall in love with people because I want them to feel better about themselves. I want to tell you how amazing you are all the time; I want you to know of your handsome self, about how effortlessly funny and intelligent you are. I want you to know that; I don’t want you to be lonely anymore. I don’t care about propriety or what should be said from someone like me to someone like you; you deserve to hear it because, unfortunately, I have a feeling no one is there to tell you this themselves, and it honestly breaks my heart.

But more so, I don’t want you to be lonely because it would mean that this eternal loneliness would be inevitable for me too. If you can change the course of events, so could I. But if you never do, despite your best efforts and your truly loving, pure soul, I won’t either. My future depends on you.

I don’t love you. I just want you to find love.

Maybe, we should just find a way to love each other and change the course of events for us both. Maybe, you could finally have that epic love you were so unfairly robbed of. And finally, even at my young age, I could finally have that epic love I was so scared of never attaining.

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