An Old Letter to an Almost Lover

It’s just crazy how much can change in one year.

“I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I’m awake right now and slightly delusional and half asleep yet wide awake at the same time, so I’m just going to go ahead and say all the things that I never got the chance to say - so I’m saying it all now before they all become meshed inside of me never wanting to be known again. I don’t know why I’m even writing this to you right now. I would just text you or call you, but I deleted your number the night we broke up. Just call it my way of protecting myself. But I found your email address in my inbox a few minutes ago and thought “what the hell, I’m gonna do it.

Deleting you from my life was hard. And to some extent, it worked. I don’t think about you as often as I used to. I don’t sit and wallow in self-pity. But at the same time, I’m not completely and totally over you, and I know that will only take time. Lots and lots of time. I’m distracting myself though. I make attempts at having irresponsible teenage fun. I flirt with boys. I’m trying. I’m slowly making the effort to get the image of me and you being happy together out of my mind. Yet, I’m sitting here writing this. To you.

So I’m just going to start off by saying something I should have said that night we broke up. Not that it would have changed anything, but it’s been on my mind. You’d always ask me why I like you so much. Why why why why why. And my answer was always “I don’t know, I just do.” But that night, when you told me that me not knowing why shows that none of my feelings for you are real, it made me think. Because you had no right telling me my feeling were fake. I did nothing to deserve that. If anything, you were the one with the false feelings and motivations. So that night, as I laid in bed, I thought about why I like you so much. Why I didn’t want to lose you. Why I was so desperate to keep you in my life and to want to call you my own. And it finally came to me. When we first started talking, something about you just drew me towards you. Your personality, yeah. Your looks, yeah. But you had this sense of vulnerability, too. And then, when you told me about Richard and what he had done to you, it hit me. I liked you so much because, like me, you know how it feels to be hurt. And not just in any way, but by someone you deeply cared about without even knowing why. Whenever you would talk about Richard and what he had done to you, I thought of me and Daniel, and how he pretty much did the exact same things to me. And knowing that you knew that pain, I felt that I could trust you. I liked you because I had/have never met anyone who had been through that, and in a way, I felt that we could make each other happy and that you would be the last person to hurt me like that, because you knew how it felt. Clearly I was wrong. Because in a way, you became Richard. You did to me what he did to you. Maybe not literally, but you get the idea. When it comes down to it, I liked you so much because I thought you would be the last person to lie to me. The last person to betray my trust. I know it is partially my fault for trusting you so blindly, but I mean come on, with all the sweet talk and promises you made to me, can you really blame me?

When we started to officially date, it didn’t really feel any different. I had you back and that’s all that mattered to me. Sad, right? And I don’t know if you remember, but that night we talked about love on the phone, you told me that when either of us realize that we love the other, we should say something. No matter what. As you said all of that all to me all I could think about was “what if I already love you?” Because as you talked about it I got scared and nervous. You said you probably won’t have those feelings for a very long time, so I thought “shit, I’m the one that loves you and we’re probably gonna break up before I’ll even have the chance to tell him.” I think it’s funny how this ended. I’m just another guy that you got bored of. And I really do honestly think that you never liked me to begin with. I wasn’t your ideal guy. I think if I was more attractive you’d still be with me, honestly. Because there is nothing I did wrong in our seven months of “friendship.” And you say that it wasn’t meant to be, and maybe you’re right.
I don’t know what you think of me anymore. I don’t know if any of the things you’ve told me are even true. There were the times when you would say the perfect things - you’d say things that made me melt. Then there were the times when you would say weird “I don’t really like you and I’m just using you to fill a void” type of things. You’ve told me that you are lonely thousands of times. And it makes sense. Maybe you were miserable, and that’s why you would turn to me. I mean after all, misery does love company. And I was that company. But maybe you actually enjoyed my company. Maybe you did actually care. But I’ll never know. Because honestly, I make such a great boyfriend. I’m loyal, honest, caring, kind. I know I’m not super hot, but I’m not ugly either. The fact that you kissed someone else isn’t what bugs me. But the fact that you talked to him afterwards for a whole day and not once ever brought up the fact that you had a boyfriend - that’s what phases me. Because when you really truly like someone, you’ll be proud of being with them. No matter what. And you say that’s not “what you do.” And that you’re a “private person.” I don’t buy it. Because truly liking someone means being happy to tell people that you’re with him. The sole fact that you did what you did shows that you did not care. I was just someone to keep you busy because you were “bored.” You said it yourself. And what’s weird is, you make yourself look like the victim. You make it look like I did some horrible thing to you. You go around acting like you’re so sad and lonely. I don’t know if you realize it, but you bring it all upon yourself. I did nothing to you and you still manage to come out looking all hurt and betrayed. If you were happy with me, then you should have stayed with me. You should have shown me that you truly and utterly cared. But instead, you told me that if you stayed with me, you’d probably cheat again. And when you told me that I wanted you to be someone you can’t be, that was such BS. Because you can be that person. I’ve seen that person who’s kind and caring and loyal. I’ve seen him inside you. But you chose not to be him. And that’s fine and all, until you deny it. You underestimated what I could have done. I could have been there for you. I could have held your hand. I could have been the shoulder for you to cry on. But you pushed me away. Or maybe you never wanted me there in the first place. I just wish you would have told me that way before all of this happened. Instead, you made me look like some weird paranoid freak who over-thinks everything. Well, now do you see why I do it? But it’s not like any of it matters anymore. And to be completely honest, it’s hard for me to believe anything you say. Because all you do is talk talk talk. You never act upon the words you say. And if you do, it’s rare. I think we could have been happy. I think we could have fallen in love.
This is way longer than I thought it would be. I apologize if some of it doesn’t make sense, I tend to babble when I do stuff like this. But I think it’s good (for me) that I tell you all the stuff I’ve been thinking about every night before I sleep. You are my biggest “what if?” I know you probably won’t respond to this. In fact, I don’t want you to reply. I really don’t. I don’t know what more I can say to you, I think I’ve said it all. I’m sure once I send this though I’ll think of more things that I want to tell you, but oh well. But I want you to know, I’m not going to find anyone else like you. And I know it. The same way I know you won’t find anyone else like me. You will always occupy a special place inside my heart, regardless of all the shit you’ve put me through.”

Yesterday

Acceptance. It’s hard. It takes time. Things change. People pretend to change, or simply decide to reveal their true colors. And we must move on from it. We must accept it, take it as it is, and just continue walking forward.

So many things change in our life. I mean, come on, college is here. Now. Friends are lost. New ones will be gained. And no matter what, I won’t always be happy. And that’s fine, as long as I can regain that happiness. Like right now, I don’t know what I am. I’m not happy, but I’m not sad. I guess you can say I’m content. Just, here. Living. Right now.

I’m not going back to how I used to be though. That’s what got me in this mess. There’s always a time to change, and the past few months have taught me that this change is necessary. I’m still the same person though. I’ll still have so much to say. But this time I won’t say it.

A lot of people say that the past is the past, and nothing more. But I don’t believe that. The past is so much more. I’m not saying it’s good to dwell on the past, but forgetting about it is never a smart thing to do. I certainly haven’t forgotten. I never forget. But yesterday is yesterday, and all I can do is move on onto tomorrow. But I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I’m losing my mind. Slowly, but surely.

X

I finally did what I’ve been meaning to do. I am feeling the change. The little beings inside of me moving and growing. Commanding my body and soul. My mind. My heart. Do this. Do that. I can feel it. I can hear it. Taste it smell it see it.

And I no longer wallow and soak and sit. No. Because that leads nowhere.

I am finally doing what I want to do. And as of now, right this second - this moment - the change takes effect. Just watch.

Aha. Finally. This is X. 

Words

I write when I’m bored. So this is me, bored. Blabbing on about nothing. About everything.

Now that it’s summer, all the days seem to just mesh together. Monday becomes Saturday becomes Wednesday becomes Sundaytuesdaythursdayfriday. It’s all a mess. But I love it.

I think I’m a pretty great person. I’m loyal. Honest. Right? I’m not strong though. And I can admit that now. I go through great efforts to make myself look stronger than I truly am. No, I don’t actually. I think everyone knows that I’m weak. I flip-flop. One minute I feel like I’m on top of the world, the next minute I feel like everyone is just so annoyed and through with me. I’m a walking contradiction. Honestly.

I don’t even know if I’ll ever change. I think I’ll always be the person that can’t stand being alone. That sad little dependent individual who will always be so desperate for attention from that one special person.

The fact that I’m only seventeen makes me a bit sad. It makes forever seem so far away. So fake. I feel like all of this won’t mean anything in five, ten, twenty years. But I want it to. I want forever to happen. Is that bad of me? Am I a horrible person? Being so young and feeling this way it’s just… I can’t even describe it. And I should be able to. I am the writer. Right?

Veneration

Confessions. Right here, under the stars. Let us lay here. Alone. With each other. Flying. Soaring. Deep into nothingness. Into everything we will ever be. Let me confess all my secrets. All of the thoughts I’ve been holding back. Maybe we’ll fly even farther. Or maybe we’ll fall, fall, fall. Down into the depths of emptiness. Voids slowly being filled. With what? Is this real? Is it a lie? Take hold of it all. Embrace it. I don’t think I should be questioning everything. Doubting so many words and actions. Holding in my jumbled thoughts that make no sense. Breathe. Let us breathe.

Fly. With me. Up, up, up into happiness. Into bliss. Into the never-ending light that fills our insides and makes us feel warm. That sacred warmth we can call our own. The warmth that is ours.

Fear. I am scared. Change, change, change my thoughts. Fear, fear, fear. Joy, joy, joy. Fear. Joy. Change. Everything will change. Everything is changing. For how long? What changed? Why? I have so many questions. I should let them go. Does it even matter? Isn’t this what I wanted? I can’t be vulnerable. I can’t let attachment happen again, again, again. It’s happening.

Love, love, love shall grow. Or die. Flourish or suffocate it. Let us grow change heal love embrace feel. Let us open each other up and learn, learn, learn.

Utopia

My childhood is over. High school is now a thing of the past. College waits for me in the very, very near future. This is all so surreal. So dreary. It still hasn’t hit me. This is my life now. My life. This is my chance to be independent. To be strong, as I have been for the past seventeen years. Well, somewhat. I’m half asleep right now though, so none of this will make sense (also, I have not had a good night’s sleep nor have I slept in my own bed since Saturday night).

The ending to my high school career was more amazing than I could ever dream. I left high school with everything I wanted to leave with: a loving family by my side, a boyfriend that takes my breath away, friends that I can always count on, straight A’s, and so much more. I can honestly say, I am happy. And I deserve to be happy. I could not ask for anything better than what I have right now. This - this is the ending to my childhood, but not quite the beginning to adulthood. And I am happy. Perfectly, and utterly, happy.

This is my utopia.