Yesterday — or for me, better said today — was the Super Bowl.
I didn’t watch it, for many reasons. But with my community, it’s impossible not to see the tweets.
And suddenly, the memories from last year came rushing back.
How excited you were.
How happy the halftime show made you.
How deeply I fell in love with this sport — solely because your enthusiasm overwhelmed me.
I remember how you could talk about it for hours, and I would just listen.
How beautiful it was to hear you explain it all.
You wanted me to understand more. And you succeeded.
You said I might find it silly — but I never did.
Listening to you was like music to my ears.
Always.
Right now, I’m facing a lot of obstacles.
And again and again, I hear your voice in my head saying:
You can do this, Rye. You’ve got this. Everything will be okay.
I don’t want to give up.
I don’t want to give myself up.
I don’t want to abandon what I’m doing — or what I still want to do.
I’m finding good people again. People who genuinely show me that they like me for what I say and what I do.
That I don’t have to pretend.
That I don’t have to be perfect.
I can simply be myself — in every moment.
And yes, I’m getting those shitty hate comments again. Just like last year.
But I no longer allow those people to drag me down.
I don’t explode the way I did back then.
I stand up to the hate now — strong — because two sentences walk with me, and both are deeply tied to you:
“The only thing more powerful than hate is love.”
and
“We hope for better things; it will rise from the ashes.”
I will no longer hide.
I will no longer hide my tears.
I will no longer hide what I stand for — or who I stand for.
I will learn to stop being ashamed of my body.
I will stop hiding behind fear.
I want to grow.
For myself.
For you.
Even if you will never be part of my life again.
With my therapist’s guidance, I’ve decided to be truly honest.
I’ve been incredibly vague in the past with my words — and I don’t want to be that person anymore.
I messed up. And I’m not allowed to only half‑own that.
I have to be honest. With myself — and yes, with you.
Even if you may never see it.
Midnight Soul 