Unfinished miracles

I want to know that it was love. Saying that he couldn’t love me or he was evil or bad just makes it hurt because I know it’s not true. He loved me so much. His love was not enough, yes. But it was also beating impossible odds simply to exist. For him to have any sweetness from the place he was born was already incredible and I need to feel validated in what I saw was real. His heart was an unfinished miracle 

He was a beautiful spark and I saw him and I loved him and he existed while we were together. And I don’t know if he will ever feel loved again and that’s tragic. It’s not guaranteed. And I saw a glimpse of something incredibly beautiful. I saw his miracle. It’s not likely anyone will ever see him the way I do again. But maybe, just maybe he will see himself the way I did. For real for once. Not with my eyes that he tried to own, but with his own eyes. And that’s enough.