It's been about a month or two now since we talked. Since we talked in our way. We still talk, but only when we are together with our friends. Then it's always in the casual way. We talk then because we have to.
We used to stay up all night and just talk in our way and when I got home, you would always call me and we would be on the phone for hours. You were all I could think about at some point. Your voice would always make me warm. Your presence would always make me smile and your kiss would always make me shiver.
We knew from the beginning that we would never work. Still, we gave it a chance. Cus, who knew?
But we are the opposite with everything. I am a wildflower and you are a beautiful rose. It would never work. That's why leaving each other was so easy for us. Because we knew that we wasn't meant to be.
But I'd like to thank you for some things. Thank you for waking up my butterflies again. Before you, I hadn't felt them for years. Thank you for making me feel something again, what ever it now was. And thank you for you're wonderful and perfect smell. Some of my clothes still smell like you, no matter how much I'd washed them.
You're perfect and wonderful smell. You were perfect.
How could love be so intricate? Unobtainable? Complicated?
This is our story.
I met you thru your best friend. I've been away for a year, sorting things out. Mostly my own life and all the wrong turns I've taken so far. During my absence I had an involuntary period of celibacy so when I finally came home again I was desperate for sex. Within a week I hooked up with 4 different women, trying to satisfy urges that hadn't been satisfied for a year. And so I met Sara. She was the niece of the guy we sublet our apartment in the basement to. She was a troubled girl, she had taken some wrong turns and was now trying to make all the right ones. A woman after my taste.
It didn't bother me that she was 3 years younger than me at the time. Neither did I think for a second that maybe I shouldn't do this, after all, she was the niece of our tenant. I was horny and she was there.
So it happened.
And then it happened again and again. We were extremely secretive about it, the only one's that knew were her friends. We developed a friendship along the way. We used to talk about everything, we took walks, we laughed and shared. And I liked her. A lot. She was funny. She amused me. And no one suspected a thing, we enjoyed our little private secret. But one day I met you. And I knew from the start nothing would be the same. You took my breathe away. From that first moment. I just needed to see you and everything just stopped.
I couldn't stop thinking about you. And I used too hope that you'd come visit her so I could see you, be in your vicinity. It feels so strange now thinking about it. How could you have me caught so quickly? Without even doing anything? But I couldn't do that to Sara. So I tried to stay away when you came to visit- Cause you just don't do that. You just don't dump the girl for her best friend. Try to explain that without getting killed.
Me and Sara continued our strange relationship for a year or so. And I never told you how I felt for you, about you. This blossoming infatuation. This seed of love.
Sara found love. And I can't say that I liked her boyfriend but love is love. And I accepted that our relationship had gone it's course in some ways. We still met when she came by and we continued with our walks. We still talked on the phone and we still enjoyed meeting each other. But there were no more sex. And it was ok, I was fine with it.
I moved from my parents to my own place during this time. And finally you and I started to get a relationship of our own.
We started talking. And talking went on to seeing each other. And I loved every second of it.
You started to come over everyday. We talked, laughed, smiled. I loved every second with you. You started to sleep over. And it was so natural. You and Amanda came for a visit one day. And that night while Amanda was sleeping we had sex for the first time. Turn off all the lights. Light up some candles.
It was all very movie-esque.
I don't remember ever being so content before in my life as those day's with you.
But you found love too. And you went away.
And me and Sara had a fight which in the end lead to us not talking with each other for almost 2 years.
I had a lot of time to think about things. About you. And feelings changed. From just thinking you was an amazing woman to infatuation to love.
I'm in love with you. And I wish it wasn't so.
Time went on. I moved to another apartment. And one day I started to talk with Sara again. And we had sex. Again. You had a boyfriend then. And my heart was burning with agony at the thought of you being with him. And I was longing to met you again. Talk to you again. But the day never came. One day I was on my way home from a friends, just another day. And and on the stop, who do I meet if not you? And I was at a loss for words. And seconds later your boyfriend showed up.
I hated that very second. I wished that it had never occurred.
A couple of months after that I moved to the neighboring country. Sara and I talked sporadically during this period. But I didn't stop thinking of you. A lot of things happen in my life during this period. I became a better person. I loved someone for the first time in my life. I grew personally and emotionally.
In 2008 I decided to celebrate New Years in another country. Me and a couple of friends decided to go to Sensation White in Germany. I went home after Christmas and while I was there I met Sara. We've been talking a lot the last couple of months and we both missed each other. She had visited my sister a lot lately as well, so it was natural that we met up. And you guessed it. We had sex. Again.
I practically lived at her place until I left for Germany.
And when I came back I had a surprise waiting for me. Sara told me she was pregnant.
I was in shock. I hadn't thought about parenthood too serious before that but now, put in the situation I realized that I wanted this. But things happen. And in the end Sara and I stopped talking again. And our relationship turned sour. And that how it was when I found out that you were moving too the same city I was in. I was overwhelmed with joy. But you had a boyfriend and I had just ended my relationship. There were so many complications. I was still living with my ex, we still had feelings for each other and there was no time for closure.
We met up a couple of times but just in the passing. But I've managed to tell you how I felt about you. And you seem to be in disbelief.
Your relationship ended.
We took a walk one day. We played in the snow. And on a swing. And I told you. All of it. All the time I've spent thinking it over. What I felt. And in the end we kissed. I loved that day.
One day you called me. You were a bit tipsy and wanted to see me so I came. And we walked. And talked. And just looked at each other. And as usual your eyes melted everything inside of me. And you smile was worth going thru the depths of hell for. And we kissed. And we just didn't seem to be able to stop kissing. The world was ours, the minutes was too short, the sweet agony of love. I wished that it would never end. But you had to go home, so I followed you to your door.
In the weeks that followed we talked and met up a couple of times more. Went out with each other. I met her friends. The people she lived with. And I realized that I couldn't share her. I wanted more than just being "friends." I couldn't just be her friend. I couldn't stand by and see other guys hit on her. And I knew that if I couldn't have her I couldn't be near her, for it was just too painful. It felt weird wanting something so badly. Like I was unintentionally choking her, limiting her interaction with others.
I told you this. How I felt. What I thought. What I wanted. And what I would have to do if we could not be. I think I scared you.
But in the end we ended up sleeping with each other. I wished it would had lasted forever. But it didn't. In the morning I followed you to your job. And we talked. Laughed. Smiled. And I cried inside because I knew that you weren't ready for a new relationship yet, not when your last one was still so fresh. And so I told you again what I felt. And then I kissed you for the last time. Said goodbye and left. I wanted to stop. But I continued to walk, I needed to leave you so you could be free. To choose. To feel.
To do the things you needed and not the things I wanted.
We stopped talking.
I can't remember anymore how long it took before I met you again. I remember that it was summertime. I was out with a couple of friend at the Opera, just taking a walk. We were actually talking about you when I thought I saw you on a distance. Your hair was everywhere. That's how I recognized you, by your hair. But while I was talking with my friends, you hid behind your friend and walked away. I didn't even see it. But my friends did.
Next time I saw you you tried to hide again. I couldn't understand why. We screamed at each other. Maybe not the best thing.
I met you about 6 months ago. On the tram. All of a sudden there you were. We said hi and then you went off. And it still hurt.
My body physically hurt 24/7 for over 6 months. You were my first thought when I woke up and my last thought before I fell asleep. You were in my dreams and constantly in my thoughts. I prayed everyday for it to disappear. Vanish. Be gone demon spawn. But off course it didn't. That's not how love works.
I couldn't even see a picture of you for over 1.5 year without a gaping hole of sorrow opening up in my soul. I still get you in my head when the thought of spending the rest of my life with someone comes up. I hate it. And I still think of you more than I'd like, but finally I think I'm letting go. I met you when I was 18. I'm 25 now.
It feels that it's about time now. I can see pictures of you now. For several minutes on end. And it doesn't even hurt that much anymore. I pray to God that you're happy in your relationship. That you're getting married soon. Maybe you already have. That you have children. Or children on the way. Anything that can separate the last bits of you from me. That's the impact you had on my life. Now somebody knows.
I needed to write it down. To tell myself. To tell others. I'm trying to let go of you. I can't honestly say if I love you. But.
I don't think I've ever had a best friend before you. Maybe because all my best friends have been girls and now I've found you and I think we might fit together perfectly one of us X and the other Y. We've known each other for a while but I only came to your school this year, but of us unenthusiastic about spending 5 days a week with one another. But our shared neighborhood slowly brought us together and with that we discovered our shared souls. We spent long hours getting coffee and held hands walking back to my house. Purely as friends. Is that weird? It didn't feel weird. On Valentines Day we went to buy your girlfriend a present together. We walked through aisle upon aisle in Rite Aid collapsing with laughter about what if you just presented her with a bag of beef jerky? Vaginal cream? A Toy Story 3 hat? We've spent days lying in my room talking about anything. When she broke up with you I was the first girl to ever see you cry. I held you in my arms and felt your chest tremble against my heart. We lay outside in the warm spring sun talking about the future and how we felt so small in a world so big. We watched every Laker game this season and although we're fans of different teams you rested your head in my lap as we argued about calls. Sometimes you come over late Sunday nights because neither of us want to go to school the next day so we bake chocolate chip cookies in my kitchen, and I pour you glass after glass of the 2% milk my family gets just for you. An unshared secret between us for more than a week rarely exists, and if it does, it's just waiting for the right moment to be revealed. That night this spring break we slept at your house. It was the night of my birthday so we drank to Never Have I Ever with the other two. We fell asleep on the same couch spooning and laughing, my hands rested on yours and your arms wrapped around my waist. Our fingers played with one another and slowly the touch because more desperate and longing. I'd thought about the possibility before but stored it away for another day, month, year. I turned my head to face yours, and you lifted yours. I'm not sure if I'm in love with you.
We both left for school right before our two year anniversary. No one could ever have the slightest insight into the connection we have, unlike like anyone else’s, and we know it. Each new day with you was the happiest day of my life. You are so different than anyone else, no one can ever measure up to be the man you are when you’re with me. You make me feel safe and happy in the most scary and hurtful of times. Nothing or no one could ever touch me in your arms. We’ve been through rough times, emotional times, the best times, and times that just sail by and we got through it all. We’re about to enter one of the toughest times we’ve ever been though. And I know we haven’t accomplished anything like this before but hang in there, cause I love you more than I’ll ever be able to explain. I know its hard for us to know how far away the next time we’ll see each other will be, I know its hard going to sleep and waking up alone. But just wait until it’s just you and me together forever. Just wait until we get through this together and we can experience the world together all over again. And we can fall in love a second time, an even more deeper and richer love than we’ve ever had before. There will be times where we feel like letting go of this emotional roller coaster that we choose to go on but no matter how dark and scary things may get, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. We can do it, we’ll help each other stay in there, we’re a team. Lean on me if you need help and I’ll help you. I’ll be there for you no matter how far away cause you’re my high school sweetheart and there’s nothing more special than the connection we have. You made an impression on me that will last a lifetime. We became who we are together. We formed each other into the best of best of friends, we have a grasp on each other that can never be broken. You’ll always be there in my heart as my one and only lovey. Forever. It’s you and me.
I don’t have very much experience with love, any actually, apart from my family and friends. And it terrifies me. Not because it’s something I don’t know, but because what if I never do experience it? I’m starting to feel like that lonely, pitiable, single friend not so much because I happen to be single, but because I’ve always been alone and the people around me have slowly all found someone to experience love with. And I’m the only one who hasn’t.
The worst part is that last spring I might have let someone slip right by me. He was a TA, leaving after graduation. Our paths crossed so many different times, but I was unwilling, too afraid to do anything because he was my teacher, even if he was only 2 years older than me and not technically my teacher. He was still giving me a grade. But what if he was my chance at love? I don’t know if it really was love, or just a huge crush, but I have never felt that way about anyone else. And the worst part? I think things were a little reciprocal.
This fall is the first time that someone has shown any real interest in me, and 'pursued' me in my 22 years. But I just didn’t like him more than in a friendly way. Everyone was pushing me to “just go for it!” but I just couldn’t. In the end I didn’t feel anything close to what I felt for Mr. TA. But did I push away Mr. Possibility because I was afraid? Or was it because I didn’t feel elated, anxious and nervous about seeing him the way that I did for Mr. TA?
I try every day to find at least one beautiful thing that I love and it helps me to fall head over heels in love with life itself. But I want more. I want someone to love me back. I want someone to give me a huge, crushing hug that you say is uncomfortably tight but secretly crave. I want someone to share my love of life with. And until I find someone who makes me feel close to the way I felt around Mr. TA, I just don’t see the point of going through the motions.
But what if I never find it? Or worse, what if I find it and my fear holds me back? I’ll be worse off than those that lost their loves because at least they got to experience that profound, eternal, elusive emotion.
Calling you by name feels odd. I think I did it just once, the first time we spoke on the phone, after that we always called each other 'sweetie'. That and all the nicknames I gave you, one sillier than the other, but you loved them all. We spent a lot of time mailing, then chatting online, then on the phone. I think my favorite was 'you' when you heard it was me on the line, saying “hey you”, with that perfect pitch and all the happiness behind, happy that it was me.
I never got to meet your parents but they sure hated me, or at least disliked me very much. They just saw me as 'the big bad foreigner' that was going to take their precious little daughter away, and in the end they made you break up with me. You were crying and telling me that you love me and all you wanted was me, but our relationship had to end. Like the stupid coward I am, I just went “Okay”. I tried to comfort you by telling you how much you deserved happiness and someone so much better than me.
That was years ago, now you have all that, and he's not me. So who will comfort me? I don't want comforting, I just want you. Why can't I be happy for you? Am I so petty that I can't allow you to be happy without feeling sorry for myself?
I set myself up for pain and misery. I decided the bathroom needed to be cheerier, more colorful and bought a shower curtain with colored dots. While in the shower I realized they remind me of you, that time you passed a skittle from your mouth to mine with a kiss and a giggle. One time, that's all it took and it's one of the cutest, most romantic things I've ever experienced. Every where I look, every thing I see or hear reminds me of you. A stuffed toy, colorful candy, a smile showing teeth and gum, you had the perfect amount of gum.
I had your picture in a frame in a desk drawer. Every time I'd be looking for something and open that drawer, your smiling face would meet me and I'd freeze. Cursing myself, I'd close the drawer, just to do the same thing again next time.
Several times I've been angling, asking if you're happy and you always say you are. You must have noticed it. You're too smart not to.
I wanted to blame your parents but now I know my own cowardice is to blame. I wanted to blame faith for putting us on opposite sides of the Atlantic but we are masters of our own faiths. If I had chosen You instead of choosing not to choose, today would be different.
If you'd let me love you again I'd drop everything to be with you. I'd walk into my boss's office tomorrow and quit, and when he asks why, I'd say “for love”. I'd take a job cleaning toilets or whatever, it would all be worth it if I could be with you.
Funny thing is, I Did get a second chance. Right after we broke up, you had a thing with a guy. But he cheated on you not long into the relationship. You wrote about it on your facebook, feeling betrayed, and all I could think of was to ask if it was me. Why didn't I just step in and go for it? Third chance? I highly doubt there will be one.
I want to go back in time, have a friendly chat with my younger self just before that day we were over. I'd kick him hard in the nuts, repeatedly. Standing over the prone body I'd say “Oh you think that hurts? Lemme tell you about My last few years...”
I'm afraid. Afraid that no one will ever feel for me like you did, or that no one can ever live up to you. Afraid that what I'm feeling now is not love for you, just pity for myself. Afraid of that telling you all this might hurt what you have today, and you'd hate me for it. Afraid of that you wouldn't care or be bothered by it. I don't know which one scares me the most. No, I do know what I'm most afraid of. I just don't want to admit it to myself.
So here I am, anonymously posting my letter to you on a blog. Is it that I care about your feelings, or am I still just a coward?
I'm sorry I was such a coward that I didn't fight for us.
I'm sorry I can't feel happy for your happiness.
I'm sorry for being 'that guy', mailing and seeking contact when you're busy being truly happy with your man.
Everyone has numerous negative experiences when it comes to talking about Love. For it takes going through all of the bad to finally get to the good. I try my hardest to not let my previous relationships (or lack there of) get me down. I try my hardest to remind myself of this fact, despite having been just used and discarded by numerous guys.
It's almost as if there is a sign on my forehead, saying "Come lie to me about having a girlfriend." I almost don't know what's worse: being cheated on, or being used to cheat with. When I first hooked up with a guy in a relationship, I felt awful. Had I have known, I would have never even looked at the guy. What if the same had happen to me while I was in a relationship? Then it happened again. And again. And again. All with different guys, from different places. Granted, I never let things escalate to the level that these boys would have desired, yet still. The feeling of being used is still there.
Now there's a new guy in the picture. It has only been a couple of weeks, a couple of dates, a couple of long kisses. I'm trying my hardest to not get too excited. What if I just jinx it all, and he's like the others? Only interested in me for lustful purposes, and stops all communication once he catches on that I'm not willing to give him my all, too fast, too soon.
Is it crazy that I can only think of his eyes, his smile, the way he holds my hand and kisses it, the bizarre things he says, his head on my shoulder, his hand on my back? How soon is too soon so say that you know you've found your perfect match?
Perhaps I'm obsessive. Or maybe i'm just pathetically romantic. Either way, I just need to know that it is possible to let my guard down, and have an actual, full-fledged, hot-blooded romance with a great guy. A crush is my greatest weakness. And he's got me good.
Sometimes I lie in bed all day just so that I can dream of you.
Seven years ago now I met you. I was scared of you at first; scared of the way you looked at me. And of your rebellious ways. After that day you re-laced my chucks, though, I realized that what I was feeling wasn’t fear, and that the feeling bubbling in my core was really something much more life-altering. The next day you texted me and we went to the beach. I was intoxicated with the confidence your stare gave me, prancing around in my bikini. Every time I caught your eyes my heart jumped, and when your strong hand rested on my back I knew I was yours.
You were my boyfriend for four and a bit years. I don’t have anything but snapshots of our time together, all of these years later. I remember walking down the hill hand-in-hand after losing my virginity to you. I remember lying in your lap under the stars listening to your stories. I remember you laughing at me getting stuck on a cliff ledge, whilst letting me ease onto your strong shoulders as you helped me down. I remember dancing with you. I loved dancing with you. I remember you stopping me on the stairs and telling me that I was your soul mate.
Funny, but I don’t remember the first time you told me you loved me. I think it is because, for our whole relationship plus some, it was a given. I was the love of your life, and you were the love of my life. Nothing could change that. As safe and wonderful as that sounds, it was the undoing of us. We hurt each other. I cannot even put into words how much you hurt me, and now that I think about it, how much I hurt you. Just because we knew the other would always be there, unfaltering. We struggled against the hurt, drowning in the intensity of our love.
I remember, at the airport, whispering in your ear; “Nothing will change, I promise. I love you”, as I left for university.
Everything changed. I left and thought I had found better things. And then I left you. You were still mine, and I was still yours for a year after that. We continually toyed with our love. We kissed, we slept together, and we promised ourselves to one another… But only when the time was right. We used our great love as a back-up plan until, finally, all the hurt that had passed between us shattered everything we knew. All of the people we let get between us because we were too scared, really did push us apart – something we thought was impossible. It kills me that I didn’t fight for you before, now that it’s too late.
We are so far apart I don’t even know you anymore. But still, I cannot get over you. My love is unconditional. And a part of me still believes your love is unconditional too, that you think of me every day, like I do you.
Sometimes I lie in bed all day just so I can dream about you dreaming about me too.
at 6, we were the two new kids. we bonded over the people we didn't know and the friends we didn't have in common.
at 9, girls were stupid and so were boys. so when the double digits came and we went our separate ways, it wasn't really a big deal that we had never held hands or shared a somewhat innocent kiss.
at 11 and 12 and all through the teens i heard from you every other year. we never wrote, nor spoke, nor talked to each other. what i knew came from the unexpected encounters of our parents.
except… at 14 i saw you. and you were my first kiss. well, the first one that swept me off my feet. that first uninnocent kiss. i woke up with my head still swirling, still feeling your lips on mine, your arms wrapped around me, though i knew i had never truly felt them. it still is, to this day, one of the most vivid dreams i've ever had.
at 17, the first reunion. you saw me, i don't remember you. details of that dinner are oddly clear in my memory. yet you were invisible to me, not a trace of you that night on my brain.
at 22, a party at the old school. i see no one. maybe i didn't recognize them. then, a familiar face in the crowd - your brother. later, a hand on my shoulder follows the exclamation of my name - your mother, and your father right behind. but you're already gone.
at 23, the wonders of technology. and we meet again, so many years later, with the full moon shinning on a warm late spring night. hours talking, singing to the music or lack thereof, a lifetime of promises in a kiss (or a thousand kisses) between whispers of "where have you been?". as we found ourselves in each other's arms in the many nights we shared, we learned to trust one another. through summer, fall and secrets never before told we became best friends. by the time there were no more leaves on the branches we had acknowledged that, at this point in time, we were not able to give each other all we deserved.
at 24, it's a great story. it still really is. that first night still "is the stuff movies are made of". the kiss you insisted on planting on my cheek, the trip we planned but never took, the fact that you made a point of me knowing your friends, that night i held your hand while you fought back the tears, all those times you wished i had been your first love, it all just makes letting go of the fairy tale ending to this story all the more difficult. so maybe the timing will never be right for us and your kids won't be my kids. maybe we won't fall in love or live in a foreign city together. but i'll have you know this: i love you unconditionally, like only a friend can, and i'm here for the long haul.
at 25 or 85, hopefully, you will still be my best friend.
I can honestly say that the moment you kissed me was one that I have not been able to forget. You invited me in for a drink, to your brother’s room, I had just finished telling all our friends about a horrendous date I had gone on that night. I had never thought about you before, I had barely talked to you before. We had only danced for a moment the night before, something that barely registered. You had knocked on my door later that night, but excused yourself, saying you were looking for someone else when you saw the group in my room.
We got to talking, talking about everything and anything in what felt like only a moment. We lamented the night before, a bad fraternity party where we hadn’t known too many people. Aided by a screwdriver or two, you had me laughing and I was so surprised with everything we had in common, at the strange wonderful feeling of meeting a person with whom you just connect. And then, in the moment it took me to set my drink down and turn around, you had me in your arms, kissing me, pushed up against the cold, hard dorm room wall. You tasted like smoke and orange juice, the first smoker I had kissed, and you kissed with a passion I had never experienced before. You were smooth, firm yet gentle all in the same moment. I could never tell you how long it was before you stepped back, and all you said as I gaped at you was a simple “that’s how I wanted last night to go.” We connected again, and indulged again in the simple motions that always seem so new, and as soon as it began to feel like it was escalating, as one of us knew we had to say something, to move from that doorway, your twin came in, and it all ended as quickly as it had began.
I don't mind being called desperate and embarrassing and pathetic, the ex who couldn't move on, the ex who continued hoping. I was once yours and there have never been any secrets kept between us. You knew very well how not so good I am with keeping to myself whatever I feel.
It's not just because our "should-have-been-3rd-anniversary's" coming. Every single day since day one when we ended our love affair, I've been battling the familiar emptiness that I haven't felt for quite a long time. I was so used to having you around that even when we are not physically together, I am at peace knowing that you're just at the other end, waiting to be needed.
But things became totally different since that unfortunate day. I slept at night wondering if you ever thought of me too while you laid down on your mattress. If you ever missed the warmth we shared when we are right next to each other, hands intertwined in the dark. If you ever regretted giving me up, the first and only woman that you loved with your whole life.
Yet there's no way to know how you feel and think. I couldn't just make you say things that I want to hear.
Do you know it breaks my heart seeing you doing just fine while I bled and hurt inside? To realize that I'm the only one suffering and being haunted by memories and being lulled by tears to sleep at night. You probably don't even know how pathetic I think of myself every time I make and then break my own rules and self-imposed limitations. I try not to talk to you, not to smile at you, not to even look at you and I always end up swallowing my own crap.
Everybody's telling me to just move on and forget about you. That's like a stab in the flesh, through and through. They don't understand how hard it is for me. That moving on are not just words but actions needing a lot of energy to expend on.
Yes, it's almost been a year and look, here I am, still wallowing on misery. They say a person's just supposed to feel pain for 5 minutes. At the rate of how I'm doing, the pain's too tremendous that I couldn't just get over it. I just can't.
I don't know if I miss you or I love or I need you. Cos even if I figure that one out I'd be in deep shit anyway. So I think it's better that I think of you this way so things can get back to the way they were when you weren't part of the big picture.
There's one thing I know for sure though. I'm still finding that one person who wouldn't leave my life just when I need him the most.
From the first day I met you I was hooked.. there was no going back. That one "bump" changed my life.
You always ask if I knew what I was getting myself into would I have stayed? The answer is: Yes, yes a million times. I loved you for who you are and nothing could of changed that. Distance and time, they don't matter. You've loved and accepted me for exactly who I am, you put up with my every flaw, each day I fall more and more in love with you. As you go and chase your dreams you will always have my heart. We're the dynamic duo. I am so proud of you. I love you bigger than the sky.
To everyone else: If you love him, don't let him go. Time is precious. Let the little things go and enjoy the time you have. If he makes you feel loved each and everyday, if you can be yourself when you're with him, if he can make you laugh, if he is your best friend. Don't give up, in the end it's worth it all. Believe.
I'm typing this because it’s safer than sending you this text. Because I can talk to you here. You can’t ask me to stop. You can’t change the subject. You won’t say it’s a maturity thing, or that it just doesn’t feel right. And you won’t just tell me that you love me, and your sorry it’s not in the way that I need.
I sit here in tears. I sit and while it may not be every minute of the day, it is a good majority of them that I spend thinking of you, forgetting that we aren’t together. Somehow setting aside all the times that you’ve reminded me. I think about how I miss you. And it’s only when I’m halfway through my message to you, that I catch myself and immediately delete it. Even now, I find myself pondering all of these things I could say to you. Anything to remind you of how you once felt for me. But it’s only words I’ve already said twice before.
I can’t make you feel guilty anymore. I’ve done that too much as it is. I can’t beg anymore because I’m not sure how much more rejection I could possibly handle. I can’t walk away because I can’t let go of the odds. Even if it is one in a million, that you may change your mind.
Being rational, I know that it isn’t going to happen. That’s what my brain says. But for some reason, my heart is always on a different page. Or possibly an entirely different genre of books. While my mind reads though rational and scientific studies, my heart is skipping through la la land in the pages of a fairytale.
I stayed home sick today. And I was sick. I was awake at 3 am throwing up. You know this, but what you don’t know, what I can’t tell you, is that I made myself sick. Not purposely, of course. But nonetheless, my emotional wounds turned physical. Who knew so many tears could eventually turn into vomit?
I look back at when we first talked and its funny that I barely remember those days that the conversations were light and carefree. Flirty. They had a different tone. It lasted only briefly. And what came after became the norm. It may not have been perfect, but I was happy, even if you couldn’t always tell. Somewhere in those months, the conversations changed. You forgot to tell me I was beautiful and I forgot to tell you how much I appreciate you for all that you did. But I did. And I do. I always have even if I didn’t say it.
You’ve said it yourself, this conversation has been had too many times. And it’s always the same results. You trying to let me down easy, tip toeing around my heart, trying to help me understand that you just don’t love me the way you used to, the way I still love you. It isn’t that you haven’t made yourself clear, what with the many times you’ve both gently and bluntly said you don’t feel the same and your not sure you ever will. It’s not even that I’m too stupid to understand plain text or simple words. I’m not sure really what it is that always keeps me from moving on. I am starting to question myself more and more though because of it.
I love you, in a different way.
And as far as I can see it isn’t going to be changing anytime soon for me. But I hope that one day we will love each other in the same way. Even if it’s your way, instead of my own.
Even as a kid I felt that I was going to live this life alone, and the world proved that to me. For most of my life, I didn't have anyone I was close to. No one had any romantic interest in me, and when one person did, I was actually very shocked. Of course, I twisted my lack of male attention into a feeling of worthlessness. I was always told that I was pretty, but everyone lied. My friends laughed at my jokes, but they were only laughing at me. There was absolutely no way that I was a kind, attractive, funny girl, and the proof was in my lack of a boyfriend. That's how I tend to think - no evidence supports this certain belief, so it has to be false. I battle that mindset every day.
On my 18th birthday, the world finally decided to give me my first boyfriend. Four months of unconditional love slid into the gutter of two months' worth of arguments, blackmail, insults, and betrayal. I admitted to myself that I jumped into the relationship way too quickly and that I never really loved HIM, just the idea of him that I had built up in my head. I'm not a romantic, I'm not a girly girl, I'm fiercely independent, I don't hold hands, and these series of events just validated what I was thinking - I'm just not wired for relationships. I accepted the fact that I would probably never fall in love.
Two years later, I fell in love. No, he doesn't love me back.
I don't know if my love is blinding or just very pure, but those two sentences don't bother me. My love isn't dependent on his feelings for me. It took me a long time, but I'm finally at peace. At the same time, any person in love can't help but fantasize about the day that the person they love confesses their similar feelings, with kisses and hugs and roses and blah blah blah...I don't want to just fall in his arms and walk into the sunset. I know what a one-sided relationship is like, and I don't want another one.
Come on. I'm not stupid. I'm not waiting for my fantasies to come true, but I did write this as a reminder, a kind of manifesto - for me, for you, for all of the people out there who just can't stop loving:
“I am just like my love.
My love grows, my love changes. My love learns, my love hurts. My love wishes to be seen. My love wants to be loved.
Your happiness is my happiness. Do you know that yet? For my sake and for the sake of my love, if you do not know that and still ask for my hand, I should refuse.
When you finally understand, you will not ask just for my hand. You will ask for all of me, knowing that I have always been yours.”
"I'm from South America, he is from Europe and we both went to Sweden as exchange students. There is where we met. We knew it from the beginning that it wouldn't be easy. We knew that we should go back home in June 2012 but we didn't care. I remember the first time we talk on facebook. Was a Saturday night in November. We were talking and talking until we realised that was 6 in the morning. "Where did the time go? And how did it go so fast?" He asked. After that, we spoke every day and one week after, we had our first date. He lived in another town, not that far, like 30 minutes by train so I was waiting him in the train station when I got an sms. "I'm here". And I don't know why, but I had a heart attack. "That might mean something" I thought. That first date was enough to realise that we were for each other.
We met every weekend after that. Was hard to meet on week days because of the distance. But every time we saw each other I was more and more convinced about how much I liked him. And after a month we start to dream together. We had huge dreams. We were hoping for stuff that only happens in movies, or in someone who has a lucky life. "I would go to live in Argentina with you" he said. "Or I could go to Holland" I replied. He is a dreamer, and so I'm. And we promised to fight for our dreams or achieve what we really want.
Certainly, we had so much things in common. We both share a passion to travel, and we both get bored easily. But he is always thinking further, and he used to change his mind from the morning to the night. And I should have realise that. Anyway we all know that love is blind.
Less than one month ago, everything started to change. All of a sudden, he was being really cold with me. And he wanted to leave Sweden so he started to look for works back home or in another countries. Last Thursday he found a work in Italy. So first: We broke up, and second: he is leaving Sweden in 2 weeks.
Since that, I can't stop to think in the message he wrote me on facebook this last 1rst of January:
"I just wanted to say ur the most special girl i ever met and the most beautiful girl I've ever seen; I want to be with you for ever and more, and i will do anything to make u happy. You are what I've been looking for all my life, and i can say honestly that i love you. We were meant to be together one some twisted way, and i respect destiny. I will do anything as i said. You are all i want, you are the reason i am in this world. Fuck everything, I will be with you. The way might be unknown and hard, but i will give all. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world. Please forgive my mistakes, and give me the chance to be your world. I love you."
And I can't stop wondering where all those words and feelings have gone.
We went through a lot of things in only 4 months. Things that I could talk about infinite hours, and even tough I don't want him to leave, I can't ask him to stay, because it will be really selfish, cause I know he is not having a good time here at all. But it hurts.
I guess the only thing I can do now is to think that perhaps, in a future, in a couple of years, if we were really meant for each other, somehow life will drive us together again.