The Unbelonging

He wanted to show me a spot on the lake where we could sit and watch the sun fall slowly between the opening of two perfectly placed pine trees.

He has been in his head a lot lately; overthinking all his decisions, questioning his purpose. It has been hard to witness since I watch him from the outside yet understand what’s going on, on the inside. He on the other hand is stuck on the inside, not knowing how to pull himself out. I recognize him asking to go to the lake as a good sign, but I keep that thought to myself.

We met at a small get together a couple years back that some of our mutual friends put on. We immediately understood one other. Not in a, I can finish your sentence/we both hate celery kind of way, but in a, we both aren’t sure where we belong in the world kind of way. That night we just sat next to one another feeling as though we were both in a place of unbelonging...which ironically made us feel like we belonged, possibly to one another.

As I sat at the kitchen table, drinking my wine and watching everyone else talk to one another in a relaxed and comfortable fashion he walked over and sat next to me. We began talking about something. I don’t remember the actual topic, but it wasn’t the story that mattered, it was the company. An acquaintance fell into a chair across from us spilling his beer in the process, then asked us who we knew at the party. Without looking at each other I said “him” and he said “her” as we pointed to one another. From that moment on we were bound.

“Just friends” was our title and we were both happy with that since we honestly just enjoyed each other's company. Two platonic friends who held long hugs before and after get togethers and cried to one another without the expectation of an up beat “you’ll feel better” speech attached. It was just a state of being that we both understood.

We eventually found the perfect spot on the lake and began to watch the sun set. Our legs were stretched out on the grass parallel to one another as our arms reached behind us, propping our torsos up like tents. Finally settled we took in some deep breaths, and then some really deep breaths. The lake is sometimes the only place I can fill my lungs completely full with air which keeps bringing me back for more.

We had been staring straight ahead, admiring the smooth water that was reflecting the burnt sun and the silent trees. As the sun had just touched the top of the trees a thought came into my mind and without thinking or turning toward him I said,

“Tell me something you love about yourself.”

Within the same amount of time that it took me to think and say my words he responded with his own,

“I love that I love you.”

We briefly looked at one another, then smiled in understanding. Both knowing that even when neither of us have the capacity to love ourselves, the other person will never stop loving us. It means the hardest days will come but life will still be worth living, if not for us, then for each other.

Sometimes the only place I feel like I belong is the space in which both of us feel like we don’t. We belong together in the unbelonging, and for now that’s good enough for us. Sometimes getting through the day isn’t about loving yourself, but loving someone else.

“I love that I love you too,”

I say as the sun starts to gradually fall between the trees. It’s just the two of us, sitting in the unbelonging, watching one day end and waiting for a new one to begin.

Maybe when the sun rises again we will have enough energy to love ourselves too.