When he broke down today, I remembered something. I remembered why I'm here. He brings something out of me that no one else ever has. Not to the same extent, anyway.
It's this compassion, this softness that I just don't feel with other people. Or, not that I don't feel it... I just can't let it out the way I do with him. I like that side of me. It's the side I've always tried to stifle, the side my parents feared because they thought it would cause me harm. But I think not letting it out has caused me more pain than showing it ever could.
The trouble is, maybe, that I forget it exists. I get so caught up in the details, in the problems, the fears and stresses. It lies dormant while I concentrate on things that are more important and immediate and it doesn't come out until it is forced out. And I hate it at first. It is only when I give in to it that I remember and accept it.
That's kind of sad.
