He Promised Me to Never Leave Me – True Story of My Own Life

He Promised Me to Never Leave Me – True Story of My Own Life

How do you start talking about the most important person in your life…well, by simply starting. At the beginning. Why did we wish to meet? Because our parents were friends and we had never met…but knew of each other through the stories of our parents. As well as most parents, our parents too would brag about our achievements. Both of us had the idea that the other seemed to be interesting. We were the same age. Almost. One year apart and I was older. So one day, we started writing letters to each other. Our parents knew nothing of this. We had the idea they already knew too much about us and we thought they had no business having an opinion about our curiosity about each other. Mind you, we were 19 and 20. We considered ourselves old enough to make our own decisions. [ Read: The Perfect Guy – Story of Emma and Russell ]

He promised me to never leave me - True Story of my own life
– Fieke Bazelmans (Shared by member of LikeLoveQuotes.com)

So the writing started. His writing was weird. Full of fantasy world figures and life questions and poems and chess problems and what not. As young as I actually was, I knew somehow that I should read between the lines. That only that way I could have an understanding of what he was writing about. I managed to do so, somehow. I figured he was a lonely boy. Quiet on the outside, but with a vivid imagination. Fairy tales, demon wars and colorful dreams would keep his young mind busy all day long and even disturb him in his sleep…if he would get any. Most nights he would keep himself awake wondering about the world and God and all kinds of other things. He felt misunderstood by almost anyone. He seemed to think that I did understand him, which was true for some part, but mostly I just sort of felt what he meant without actually truly understanding the heart of the matter. Or maybe the part that I did understand was the heart of the matter…come to think of it, I think I am right about that. [ Read: Can’t Fight This Lovea ]

We sent each other our poems. Both of us wrote poems and may I say, not the usual teenage kind-a-like ones. They were better, far better. That was not something we decided for ourselves, although we thought so too. But our poems and stories used to get printed in the school paper and occasionally even in magazines and such. We never put too much effort into our writings. We simply wrote.

So one day we decided, both on the same day actually, that it was now time to meet. For real. So I hopped on the train, a 30 minute journey to where he lived. He had promised to meet me at the station. Of course I knew what he looked like, from the odd photograph we had sent each other. It was not a real sharp one, kind of blurry, but it was the only one I had and I always kept it close to me. I never showed it to anyone. John was mine. I wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was, that he was of me. He was just mine. [ Read: Heartwarming Message from a One Sided Lover ]

When the train arrived, at first I didn’t see him. So I waited. Looked around, but there was hardly anyone there. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, in April 1984. I thought it was all right to wait for a little while. I was sure he would turn up soon. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sun on my face.

Suddenly I felt I was being stared at. I opened my eyes and there he was. Standing about 15 feet away from me, leaning against a wall, feet crossed, staring straight at me. I stared right back. Couldn’t unlock my eyes from his. We started walking towards each other without losing eye contact. It was good there were no obstacles in between us. We for sure would have tripped over them. [ Read: 15 Quotes about Saying Goodbye to a Friend ]

And then there we were, facing each other, just inches apart. We just couldn’t stop gazing into each other’s eyes. I thought I saw his soul. I saw his entire life and thoughts and being. All of it. At once. When we finally were ready to say something, we uttered a mere “Hi…” and it seemed like we had been together all our lives.

When we got to his home, all seemed so very familiar to me. Yet I had never been there before. Not really. But I instantly recognized the place and suddenly realized that this was the place I had been to in my dreams, as a child. Countless times. I used to play with a boy about my age, then. When I looked at John, I now could clearly see the features of that little boy in the man he had become. Why hadn’t I seen that instantly when I set eyes on him at the station? Because I didn’t care what he looked like…I just felt so right at home with him, that was all that really mattered. That’s why. [ Read: Something About Love ]

We started talking. For hours. When there was a silence, it was a comfortable one. We kissed, loved, and it seemed all so logical and natural that we never gave it a second thought and from that day on, shared our lives. As simple as that. Until the day he died, we were never separated for more than five days.

Before he died, way too young at age 48, he promised me to never leave me, not even when he’d die. He kept his promise. He’s not on earth anymore but he’s with me, our talking together, our jokes and our laughter hasn’t stopped.

He had no money, he wasn’t rich, but he filled my life and my soul with such abundance, so much love, that I have enough richness for the rest of my life. And he also promised me to send me a man to love on earth and he once more kept his word. [ Read: Failure turns Savior ]

His childhood friend and cousin appeared in my life, supported me after John had died and after some time just stayed in my life, like John did, all those years before.

I am blessed. I have 2 men who couldn’t love me more, one above and one below. They know each other really well, shared part of their lives and they share me. It may sound strange, but if John were to come back on earth, if that were possible, I would simply go on the way it is now…with both of them and I wouldn’t even consider that weird.