I’m Done Writing About You

For a while I wasn’t sure I could fully be over you. Over the thought of us, over the idea that we could’ve had an epic love story to tell. It took me so long to realize my feelings for you, and it took me four shots to finally tell you how I feel. For the longest time I was secretly hoping that my life, our situation, would end differently. An ending only imaginable on a big screen, but I couldn’t let everything fall to fate, and hope that infatuation alone would keep us afloat.

I woke up from my trance of you this morning and realized that I was okay. And I have been for a while now. You will always be significant, and I can be nostalgic about you and the memories we created while my life simultaneously carries on without you. And even when it’s over, I get that sad tingling feeling in my chest that we will never be the same again. It was hard to accept the fact that you didn’t want the things I thought you’d want, but I guess some people come into your life just to teach you how to let go.

I was really sad about it for a while. The kind of sad when you know deep down there’s nothing you can do even though you wish you could. That’s when your heart breaks, you gotta fight to make sure the pain goes away. And the pain you feel? That’s there to remind you that somewhere out there is something better and that “something” is worth fighting for, because maybe it’s not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it’s about starting over and creating something better.

So this is me, apologizing to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go. I was sad, bitter, angry and I could see now that it was pathetic of me to act that way. But then I needed to feel sad, bitter and angry. I needed it to stop prolonging this spark of hope left inside me. I needed to feel it to give myself a chance at something better. 

No One Else Comes Close

You like her.

I know, because you never look at me the way you look at her. I could still hear you say her name, I could see you look at her and I don’t think you know how that affects me. My mind is still having trouble wrapping around the idea that you’re leaving. I keep writing about you but it doesn’t seem to fit the way I want us to be. I know that you will never see me as someone who could be more with you. And that is the hardest thing to accept by far.

There is no us. There will never be us. I don’t know how much longer I need to lie to myself to be able to believe it. I look at you and I am reminded by all the things I don’t have. But you keep coming back, you make me want to believe in our possibility.

I could tell you that I fell in love, although I can’t tell you how. Maybe it’s that morning, where before I opened my eyes I knew you would be there, or maybe, it was the way you played the guitar and sang. I don’t know. But I remember the first time I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.

I want to let go, because what we have is too special to ruin it with misfired romantic intentions. And every time I try to give up on you, you do something that makes me melt somewhere deep in my soul.

She is one lucky girl. She gets to be with you anytime. She’s the girl who you’d worry about. She’s the girl who you would call baby. She gets to hold your hand and feel your hug. And she’s gonna be the one who occupies your heart. The idea of you with her hurts and I don’t think you know that it would hurt me.

This is possibly the longest I have written about you and still, it doesn’t hold all the things I want you to know. I could go on all night about you, how you don’t use punctuations, how you always use stickers when chatting, how you don’t wake up to the sound of your phone, but that would only mean more falling and it’s scary to fall when you’re not so sure if someone’s there to catch you. I love you. I fell in love with you because of the million things you never knew you were doing.

You’re probably sleeping right now or doing something or maybe you’re talking to her, I don’t care. You know who you are and if it’s possible, try to see our situation in my point of view. Try and imagine what I’m feeling. I know you won’t probably read this because you wouldn’t even read a book but if by some miracle you make it ’til the end of this letter I just wanted to let you know that no one else comes close when it comes to you. Even after you broke my heart.