I wanted someone who could hold the unfinished version of me

Dear Delyara, Not the polished version. Not the coherent version. Not the version with the right language ready. The unfinished version. The one still in the middle of the feeling, not at the lesson yet. The one who cannot summarize the inner weather into a sentence that makes the room easy to carry. The one who wants to be near someone without having to become clear first. That kind of holding still feels rare. Its absence still aches. I felt that absence strongly this week.