The answer was never another person. The answer to your confusion and escape was not and is not and will not be another person. A person is just that. Nothing more and less. What I seek for isn't clear anymore, or rather was never clear. When I sought for Allah, maybe I had some happiness. When I sought for a person, I had some happiness too. But they all come with turmoil and anger and sadness and heartbreak.

I know he was projecting. I am projecting too. I know he doesn't use his words well, but I already tried with words and I feel hurt. This heart is too small and petty to contain his projection. It spills it back through the gaping hole right in the middle. Something never filled. Something that left. I'm not sure.

They say when you're sad, you feel your throat constrict and your heart wrench. I feel not a lump, but air. Hot and humid. Hurtful as it grazes my insides without meaning to.

I don't know why I prolong this. But I can't gather my strength or my words to define what just happened both for him and myself.

This heaviness has been plaguing me from long ago. It takes a little of this to make me crawl back into my shell.

Maybe I never grew up. Maybe I never will.