Dear Brandon,
I tried to give you something you never had. I tried so hard to love the hurt out of you — to show you what safety feels like, to prove that not everyone leaves. But hurt doesn’t just disappear because love arrives, and love can’t do the work someone refuses to face.
I kept pouring myself out, believing my patience could soften your walls, that my effort might erase your scars. I could carry both of our healing.
The truth is, I wasn’t loving you wrong — I was loving you more than you were willing to be loved. And this is where I hold myself accountable: it isn’t my job to fix what you won’t face. It’s not your fault you couldn’t receive it, and it’s not my failure that I offered it.
The lesson is this — you can’t love the hurt out of someone who still clings to it. So I let go, not out of bitterness, but out of acceptance. I see now that healing is a choice, and I can only make that choice for myself.
Maybe that’s the real gift I found — the love I kept trying to give away, I can finally give back to myself.
Sincerely,
Your Little One
