I am writing this, because honestly, I still love you… but in a different way now.
Yes, there are random mornings when I still think about the way things were when we first met–the day when I first saw you smile, the evening walks we had after school, the first night we held hands, the awkward, but sweet first kiss we shared…
We were so in love that we could not last a day without talking to each other. The simplest meals were feasts to us. We enjoyed every evening that we spent on your bed talking about my work and your studies, cuddling, kissing, and making love. The next morning, we’d always find ourselves asleep in each other’s arms.
But years passed and my stories about work began to be a bit boring for you, just like your school rants were to me. I was always tired from work, and you still needed to do schoolwork at night before catching up with me. Then things got even worse. Our schedules weren’t working anymore, so we had to eat alone most of the time. And we started fighting a lot. It was obvious that the rhythm of the dance we once shared had lost its beat.
Then you dumped me.
Things did not turn out the way they should have. There’s nothing more painful than dealing with a breakup that you knew was going to happen. We tried fixing our relationship, but the more we tried to reconcile, to push ourselves to be happy, to move to the same beat again, the more we were hurting ourselves.
Honestly, I thought about how I was going to propose to you. I pictured myself waiting in front of the altar, watching you walk towards me.
But I didn’t cry while writing this. I confess, it took me almost two years to learn the difference between being in love with you and actually loving you. Reality hit me hard.
I’m one of those self-admitted hopeless romantics that believe that everything will be fine as long as there is love. There were days when I’d still expect a text message from you, mornings when I’d still check your Facebook profile, and evenings when I’d randomly scan our old pictures together.
Society may have labeled us, men, as the unemotional or the hard-hearted ones, but believe me when I say it was never easy for me. It never was. I wished we could still be together. It took me almost two years to realize that nothing could happen between us anymore.
Maybe it’s true that one day, I’ll just wake up feeling better than before. No more hurt feelings. No more sleepless nights contemplating. Finally, I could say that I have moved on.
Now, I have created a life for myself without you, and I am happy with it. It took me a long time to move forward and to leave you in the past. Honestly, I still love you, but I know that I am not in love with you anymore.
They say that when you are in love with someone, you’ll eventually fall out of love with them. In my case, I have not fallen out of love with you, but I just love you in a different way. I still love you, because you were once the most precious person in my life. Eight years is still eight years. You will always have a special place in my heart.
But, I am not in love with you anymore. I stopped thinking about you. I stopped hoping that we could get back together. I accepted the fact that you’re out of my life. You have your own life now, and I have mine. We are both happy, so I believe there are good reasons why our long-term relationship didn’t work out the way it should have.
It is true that when you love someone, you never stop loving them. So, here I am, still loving you, but not in that way anymore. I still love you, but I’m not in love with you.