To The Man Who Walked Away From Me

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Becca Tarter / Unsplash

Do you remember the last time we talked? It had been one of those in-between September days when autumnal tints and late summer sun seemed to merge and gave the impression of being suspended between seasons.

You told me that you no longer love me.

And I remembered seeing a young boy’s face watching a house of card he had painstakingly built. Card upon card come tumbling down. I tried then to guess what he felt when the house of cards came crashing down. I think I know now.

It hurts. It’s difficult. It always will be.

Pain seared through my heart in each moment, every day. I have cried the tears of a lovelorn, the all-consuming sporadic weeping that shattered my entire body for hours on end. I was so sorry for myself that I didn’t know how to survive the lonely days without you. I have tried to hide the despondency to everybody and it lives like parasites, sucking away my ability to enjoy life.

I have tried to detach myself from the priceless memories that we had. I have tried to take the courage to move forward in a different direction but I failed. I still think about meeting you one day, just maybe one day.

I have asked myself why it has to be that every beautiful thing has to die. Why do the dying flowers wilt when they have so many scents to bring? Why do pain and love have to go together? Why do our hearts function the way they do? Why do our hearts keep on loving and loving, defy explanations?

It has been years but the thought of meeting someone else is not even a consideration. I still wince painfully every time I think of you. It’s true, nothing is ever easy and it’s never easy to forget you. The memories of you haunt me even after all this time.

Your smell never fades. I still dream about you. I still buy your favorite aftershave and splash it in my room every night. I still catch a glimpse of you driving a car or walking down the street and chase that person for a mile only to find out it’s not you. I still have your letters with me. You don’t have any idea that I treasured even the silly ones over the years and have them arranged chronologically, too. I still look at the photos we took when we had our vacation in the Land of Noah, that photo taken when I was sitting across from you in a bar and you were lovingly smiling at me. Across it, I can clearly read the inscribed dedication, “To my one and only love, yours forever.” I still eat our favorite hamburger and the most delicious pizza in town, the one with my favorite toppings: pineapple and pepperoni.

I know that you never meant to hurt me when you walked away from me. Do you know what I was thanking you for? It’s your honest way of saying you no longer love me. I didn’t have to guess what’s going on with your heart so I could tell mine.

Yes, you no longer love me and you told me that the last we talked. I wanted to hug you but you needed to go. I didn’t want you to see me cry.

How much do you mean to me? It’s immeasurable. It surpasses the counting of infinite numbers. It goes up to the highest sky down to the deepest pit. TC mark

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