Joseph

To the one I loved beyond reason, whose hands I tried to hold even as they pushed me away. This is for the love unacknowledged, unreciprocated, and misunderstood—the love that clung to the edge of a chasm, bruised and bleeding, refusing to let go. A love that exists but has no place to go. For those who have loved and loved and been refused, or worse, despised by the one they could never abandon, I offer this: the raw ache of loving someone who would rather fall than be saved, the bittersweet pain of holding on when your love is neither seen nor wanted, and the quiet dignity of staying true to yourself amidst it all.

I was born into a happy place,

A world where love wrapped around me like warm sunlight.

My parents, though they had little, gave me everything.

And my grandparents? They would have torn the stars down for me.

To those four souls, I was everything.

Even my grandmother—hard as stone to all but me—

Loved me in a way she had never loved another.

From them, I learned love:

A love that did not demand,

A love that was not weighed or measured.

They taught me that my happiness came first,

That my worth was never tied to success,

But to the person I chose to be.

I was raised as a princess,

Not with riches, but with reverence.

My grandfather, who offered to give me the stars,

But taught me that the universe couldn’t be held in my hands.

I learned that things fade,

That no object could ever echo the permanence of love.

And what remains is the love you give,

And the love you leave behind.

I had everything as a child,

And in having everything,

I realized I needed nothing but love and happiness.

They told me to dream,

But more than that, they told me to love—

To love without conditions, without chains.

I thought I understood it.

I thought I carried their lessons in my heart.

When a single year stole them from me,

Two of the four who had built my world,

The loss hollowed me.

I carried guilt like a stone,

Wondering if I had told them I loved them enough,

Shown them enough.

Now their love lingers in the spaces they left behind,

Faint echoes of their voices,

Their unwavering belief in me,

Their lessons etched into my soul.

All four of them would called me a special, blessed child,

A child marked by something greater.

They said I was different from the moment I was born,

But I believe it was their love that made me special.

Their faith taught me what it means to give,

To stay, to love without condition.

And for this I rarely thought about or actively sought out love

Like so many more unfortunate souls,

For I knew what being loved felt like.

And yet, when I loved you,

When I gave you my fragile, trembling heart,

It was as if you held it with bare hands,

Tossing it between your fingers,

As though unsure whether to cradle or crush it.

You told me I didn’t know love.

You said I only loved things, not souls.

You said I was selfish.

And I didn’t know whether to laugh or weep.

How could I explain the weight of love I’d known all my life?

How could I make you see it through my eyes?

And you showed me how people loved genuinely,

Unaware I had been loved like that my whole life

And I loved you like that and more.

When we met, I was just nineteen, and was a child in every sense of the word,

Perhaps I was too careless with my words and too shy to express them

But even now you hold them against me although I have grown so much more.

You think love is giving someone the stars,

But I wanted to give you the moon and the universe beyond,

Even if it meant hurting others that loved me.

And it did, I broke the hearts of people who loved me all my life in choosing you and they all faded far because of that,

I regret hurting them but I just spoke from my heart.

I didn't love anything more than you,

There's nothing I wouldn't have done for you if you asked.

And I wanted to die so badly when you said I never prioritized you,

But I didn't tell you the things you didn't know,

The things I gave up in secret, all the things I lost for you,

Because things given willingly from the heart shouldn't have to be spoken out loud.

And yet, for all that love,

I couldn’t make you believe me.

I couldn’t make you see me.

Is love a cage, then?

A set of bars built from duty and fear?

Or is it a field of wildflowers,

Where freedom and safety bloom side by side?

I never wanted to clip your wings.

I never wanted to take from you what you loved.

I only wanted to stand beside you,

To hold your hand as you reached for the stars.

But perhaps that was not enough.

Perhaps my love,

For all its warmth and faith,

Could not bridge the chasm between us.

And now, here I am,

Alone with my thoughts,

Haunted by the ghost of what could have been.

You fell in love with the person I was,

But then asked me to become someone else.

Would you have loved me more

If I’d silenced myself?

If I’d hidden the pieces of me you didn’t like?

But then, would you have even loved me at all?

Would you have loved me more if I wasn't me?

I still carry you,

Even though you spat at me,

Called me unworthy,

Made me feel like an abomination.

I carry you in my bruised hands,

Refusing to let you fall into the abyss,

Even as you begged me to let you perish.

And yet, I couldn’t save you.

I couldn’t save us.

You slipped from my grasp,

Leaving me with nothing but scars

And the memory of your disdain.

There is a madness in this kind of love—

In holding on when every part of you aches to let go.

In loving someone who hates you with every breath.

And still, I would give you everything.

My eyes, my hair, my heart—

All of it, if it meant you could be whole.

I can gladly kill any part of me to keep you alive,

Even if you never knew.

But perhaps love is not enough.

Perhaps love cannot heal what does not wish to be healed.

You showed me speeches,

Lessons on how to love,

As if my heart needed tutoring.

How could I explain the love I’d grown up with,

A love that was boundless and quiet,

Not something that could be measured or weighed?

But there is a sharpness in being misunderstood.

For those who have loved one-sidedly,

And had their love acknowledged,

Even if not returned,

You are fortunate.

At least your love was seen,

Respected in its silence.

But what of those whose love is unwelcome?

Who clutch their heart in agony,

Knowing their love is not only rejected,

But spat upon,

Called a lie?

What of those who love someone

Who looks back with contempt,

With disdain so sharp it cuts deeper

Than silence ever could?

Do you know the madness it takes

To keep holding on,

To reach for someone who spits in your face,

Who calls you vile,

Who makes you feel like God's worst creation—

And yet you hold them,

Even as your hands bleed?

Have you ever loved someone

Who begged you to let them fall,

Who resented your help,

Who turned your every act of care

Into an insult?

Have you loved someone

Who hated you for loving them?

I think of Joseph, imprisoned for nearly a decade for a crime he did not commit.

Despised by those he loved most,

Viewed as a blessed child too but that only brought him suffering from those he loved.

He bore his pain with grace,

And through it all, he stayed faithful to his Lord.

To his heart,

To his truth.

And in the end, he was special more so because of his hardships

Than the fact he was born as blessed.

Perhaps I must be like him.

And so, I sit here in this dark cell,

Faithful to the person I was taught to be.

Faithful to the love that still burns in my chest,

Even as it consumes me.

You may never understand.

You may never look back.

But I kept my word.

I loved you with everything I had.

I know I was young and clueless and could have done better,

I know I could have done so much more,

I will gladly do more,

But I did not wrong you.

And though you misunderstood me,

Though you tore me apart,

I am still here.

Still me.

Still whole.

Because love, true love,

Does not destroy.

It endures even when all else fades away.

© 2025 Inaba Tarek