I wish I had met you before.

Before my dad died. Before I got my heart broken for the first time.. and the second, and the third, and the fourth. I wish you had been my first. For everything. I kick myself often for not saving myself for you, as archaic as that may be, but to be fair to my past self, I did not know that angels like you existed on earth.

I’m sitting in front of you now and you’re telling me about your past. The girls who came before and the life you’d lived prior to becoming aware of my existence.

I’m thinking about how lucky I am to know you – how badly I wish that I could have been there to know the earlier versions of you.

I often wonder about how my younger self would see the younger you. I wonder if the versions of us in high school would ever cross paths – what would have happened between us if we had.

Outside your window, the sun is setting. A brilliant pink and orange sky fading into a lilac indigo abyss. I am full of love. When I look at you, that’s all I can feel. It’s an overwhelming wave that sweeps me away and I am powerless in its wake. I’ve always been a strong swimmer – but not when the current is you.

You are so handsome and charming. I know I tell you this often, and I know there are days when you don’t believe it. It’s not just about how you look, although you are well aware of my admissions that I would love to carve you into marble if I could. A face like yours should be immortalized and preserved for the ages. Adored and admired and worshipped like Leonardo’s David; as I do every day at the alter of your life.

—

It’s been an age since I started writing this. We’re not together anymore. I hope you’re doing well. I am. I have purpose and direction, friends, a community, I’m doing well in school, I’m looking for work. Sometimes I miss your companionship, but I’m doing well. I don’t like to think about you or our relationship. It was very painful for me for a long time. I never want to put myself in another situation like that ever again. I’m sad that I felt the need to hold on for so long, that I thought if I just gave you more and more of myself, if I made myself and my needs and my wants and my dreams smaller, that it would work… I was naive. It also wasn’t fair for you that I wanted it to be different – that I wanted you to be different. 

I still love you in a way, but not in the way I loved you when I began writing this. Not in the way I loved you when I’d cry myself to sleep wondering why you kept hurting me. It’s a detached, more nostalgic kind of love. The reminiscing of an old friend rather than the unyielding force of romantic love. When it was good, it was so good. It was rarely, fleetingly good. Bittersweet. 

Unfortunately, you were right about M. There were underlying intentions. I started seeing him, and it was like magic. He reminded me of who I am, who I want to be. It was a fleeting thing, but it gave me clarity in what I’m looking for in a life partner. I feel bad that it affected us in the end. I completely cut him off for you and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wonder if it was the same with you and L. I always thought you two were soulmates. I hope that you’ve been able to reconnect with her. I always thought you belonged together. Sometimes, I wonder if M made you as angry as you made me with L. I wonder if you felt even a fraction of what you made me feel for over a year. Well, I know that because you confirmed it for me, but you never actually acknowledged how you made me feel. How you tortured me for over a year. I never told you this, but your friend confided in me that she didn’t even know if you liked me…over 1.5 years into the relationship. Do you know how much that stung? Not because it surprised me…but because she confirmed and voiced the feelings that I’d buried inside. The fear that it was true. 

When you finally hurt me for the last time, I will admit that I was relieved. You’d finally given me a reason to leave that nobody would fight me on. You finally made me cut that final string of attachment to you, of hope. I forget your name sometimes. When I go to recall a memory, it slips from my mind. Like my system has already begun deleting the files in my consciousness. I am relieved. 

The breakup didn’t really hurt for me. You were right that things had been different since the first breakup. You hurt me beyond recovery the first time around. It was never going to change; I was never going to trust you in that same way or see you in that way ever again. The part of me who loved you with reckless abandon had died and you were stuck with its ghost. I told myself often that I regretted getting back together with you. Unfortunately, it seems that I really struggle with letting people and places go. I’m working on that. 

I hope you’re doing well. Sincerely. I also hope that I never see or hear from you again. 

Bye bye.