I was in a polycule with three amazing but invariably human and flawed people, just like me. We were also so worried about making it work instead of enjoying things, that it fell apart.

A year later I met someone, a woman I could not dream into life, she was so amazing. If you asked me to describe my idea mate, I would describe her. I had to leave her for logistical reasons, hoping to return to her. Not two months later were got into a long-distance argument and it fell apart.

It feels like all this loss over the years has compounded in me and I am broken.

I am not sure who I am anymore. I loved more than most people have in their lifetime, and they are gone. Just memories and ghosts, moments that make me wince. I dream of all of them. All gone, never to know how much they mean to me. There is nothing left, squandered over petty fears, misunderstandings, our destructive pride, foolish defense mechanisms, and mental health issues we all struggled with. I would mutilate myself to feel love again.