There has been two men in my life who I have loved unconditionally.
They where never my blood. Nor where they my husbands or lovers.

Even though, they both wanted to.


Even if they bother me, I still love them.
Even if they hurt me, I still love them.
Even if they are far, I still love them.
Even if they don't call, I still love them.


When they are not here I think of them both.
I worry about how they are doing.
If they are happy.


Their strange unconditional love for me... I couldn't understand at first.
Because I had never met men like them before.
And it terrified me to be honest.

For someone who grew up being taught by friends,
family and relatives that she was unwanted and unlovable,
it is like breathing oxygen after living under water your whole life.

And as a Koi-fish on land, I tried to catch my breath,
not knowing where to grasp
for understanding and acceptance in my own brain.

Someone said that if you love someone, set them free.
And so I did.

I found them wives, loving women that would take care of them.
So I would know they where not lonely.
That they had warmth, sweet whispers and smiles that greeted them when they came home.
Hoping that these women would see them, love them and support them when things are dark and heavy.


I still worry though.
I worry that their wives don't make them happy. Or are ignorant of their needs and feelings. That they don't ask them.
How to please them, talk to them, make them feel needed, loved and wanted.

I hope they know that I am always here. And that they are and will always feel like a piece of me.
They are my family, because I couldn't choose not to have them be part of my life.

I think of them every week. I miss them more than my blood family combined when they are gone.
But I can't tell them. Because traditional roles and forms and ideas don't allow.
Because friendships between men and women are made complicated by society.
Because I would never forgive myself if the wives got jealous.
If I rocked any boats by accident.
Even if it would be by accident and not by design.

If they died, I would take care of their children.
I would raise them and teach them about what wonderful, strong and thoughtful fathers they were.
If they died I would take care of their wives.
Treat them like the extended family they are through these men.
Because I know that their well-being would be a worry.

Their happiness means more to me than what I feel.
The only thing I fear is that they won't care about me.
That I will wither away and be forgotten in their lives.

That they don't see me as the family they are to me. That is what frightens me.
Because that would mean that there is no such thing as unconditional love.
At least not for me.
And everything I've done to protect them from me would have been for nothing.

I would be more lonely than before they entered my life.
I would have lost people that will never leave my soul.
And all this would just be a made up story in my head.

But they will probably never know, that I turned them down
so I wouldn't taint them. Destroy their love and joy. Make them less... who they are.
That selfish parts of me would somehow swallow them whole, these beautiful men.
Make them miserable and unhappy.

Because that is what unconditional love is when you are me, have a million layers of your own personality
and you don't even know half of them. At least not back then.
The fear of one of those layers suffocating their happiness is more painful
than letting them go.

I will always be thankful for all the smiles, laughter and tears they've shared with me.
The silliness and serious depth. Their flaws, their crowns, their superpowers.
They have been, and hopefully always will be, some of the best people in my life.
For them I was not just a girl, an adventure, a fantasy or an idea.
I was a person.

They are always one unfinished conversation away.
I just hope they don't crave silence yet.

Unconditional love,
that is what you taught me,
and I will owe you forever for that.