The Weight of the Mask

My life changed forever the moment I met him. I never thought I’d ever fall in love with someone so deeply and dedicatedly. It wasn’t just the presence of his love or the quiet intensity of his compassion; it was his intelligence, his patience, his shyness, and a sense of civility that made me feel truly seen.

For a long time, I believed every word he wrote. After a period of long silence, he reached out with words that felt like a lifeline:

“My love, I know it might feel like my heart has gone cold, like I’ve become heartless… but the truth is the complete opposite. I still love you deeply, quietly, constantly... I still need you in ways I can’t even put into words.”

At the time, those words were heart-meltingly beautiful. But now, in the stillness of the aftermath, I am forced to ask: Did he mean them? Does he even know what true love is?

The Anatomy of True Love

To me, true love is a unique bond that ignites joy and builds a sanctuary of shared memories. It is a deep emotional connection rooted in respect, trust, and understanding. It is the rare space where two people can be their authentic selves, stripped of performance or judgment. There is a profound beauty in being unafraid of your own soul when it is reflected in the eyes of another.

True love is an unconditional, supportive, and honest partnership. It appreciates you for who you are, rather than auditioning you for who it wants you to be. It involves deep admiration, shared vulnerability, and finding a quiet happiness simply because the other person exists.

They say true love is rare, and I believed I had found it. To me, it wasn’t just the intense, sweeping feelings of his proximity; it was the calm certainty that he was my safe harbor and I was his.

It was the mirror that showed me the best version of myself while accepting my flaws without hesitation. Even when we were more than a thousand miles apart, I felt his strength keeping me grounded.

The Fractured Reality

Yet, I am confused, standing in the rubble of that belief. Is it wrong to love what once was? Is it wrong to want back what we once had? I am still blind to the world, and perhaps to myself, wondering how something that felt so "everlastingly easy" became so impossibly heavy.

What happened to us? What happened to that "true love"?

He said he loved me. He said he could not imagine life without me and promised never to leave. Yet, it seemed so effortless for him to stay silent for days and weeks at a time. I loved the idea that he knew the deepest, most complex parts of me, and I clung to the hope that he would choose to stay.

I believed in our ability to be silly together, to navigate life’s absurdities, and to lean on one another when the world felt heavy. I believed in the unconditional promise to choose "us"—every single day.

Now, I am left with the haunting questions of the displaced: Can we recover from giving everything—our heart, our soul, our very reason for breathing—to another person? Can we learn to exist again when the center of our universe has disappeared?

The Cost of Depth

I once believed that shared values, love and mutual growth were the only signs of a healthy relationship. I believed that communication was the key to handling hardship. But love alone is not enough. I know now that to survive, love requires consistency. It requires the courage to be open without judgment.

Not a day goes by that my thoughts do not wander back to him. I find myself daydreaming, wishing he were there to hold me, to kiss me, or to simply tuck my hair behind my ear. I don’t think he will ever fully understand how he touched my life or the depth of the love I carried for him. On my darkest nights, he shined as my little star, in the daytime, he was the sun bringing joy to my heart.

He allowed me to experience something I thought I would never find—a passion that flowed through my body, soul, and mind. But now, I fear I have lost the person for whom I cared most. The burden is heavy, and my heart falls under its weight. Without my "guiding light," the dreams are different, and the laughter is no longer true.

An Unexpected Gratitude

Perhaps this is the final, quiet ache of the "Mask of Devotion." I hope he will forgive me if I hurt him with a truth or even a lie, but I never knew I was capable of loving so deeply, so fully, and so loudly. And despite the pain, I cannot thank him enough for making me realize that I am capable of such depth.

I don’t want to lose him, because I don't yet know how to cope with the silence that follows. But in this agonizing in-between, I am learning that the capacity to love is mine to keep, even if the person I gave it to was only wearing a mask.

In the end, I am left to wonder: Is true love a tangible reality that exists between two people, or is it simply a beautiful trick the heart plays to betray the mind's logic?

Was our connection real, or was it merely my heart's desperate need to believe, leading my mind into a mirror maze of its own making? 

Does true love actually exist between two people?