There’s that old familiar saying, ‘you never know what you have until you don’t have it anymore.’ I can’t help but to go back and forth with my thoughts, wondering if this is the situation I am finding now myself in. Do I miss you? Or do I miss the idea of you?
We didn’t speak for three months. 90 days exactly. At first the silence was what we wanted, what was best for us. I was angry with you and you were even angrier with me. Your heart was hurt and your ego bruised, and I felt too close to ‘okay.’ You were upset I couldn’t give you a better reason, couldn’t give you more of an answer to why I was leaving. Sometimes, people just fall out of love. Our relationship wasn’t created on solid ground and over the course of a year, it started to show through. The little things started to drive me insane and once it started, it never stopped. I hated the way you were when you got too drunk and the way you left cups with remnants of Special K cereal next to your bed. I hated the way you barely listened to my stories, as length as they were, and how you always changed the song when it was only halfway through. I hated your immaturity and reckless past. I hated how you never fully forgave me for my mistakes and never let me live them down. I hate that you accused me of cheating on you, when you know I would never in a million years do that to anyone.
Even with all of the things I grew to hate about you, I can’t help but miss them still. And all of the things I loved about you. I miss the way we used to sing in the car without caring about how terrible we sounded. I miss the way we would go to the gas station to get mass amounts of candy late at night and come back to watch our shows, the ones everyone else thought were ridiculous. Then we’d have to drink like five gallons of water to replenish our taste buds that were ruined by all of the Sour Patch Kids and Warheads. I miss the way we shared that full sized bed, the one that wasn’t nearly big enough. I miss the way you always turned your fan on high right before we fell asleep. I miss all of the Caesar salads we ate and our love for salt and vinegar chips. I miss the way you called me Brit. I miss The Guava and walking up and down Mission Beach with you. I miss talking about how good looking our kids would be. I miss how you would always share food with me when we went out to eat, because I could never decide on one meal. I miss stealing all of your clothes and that one time we painted pottery. I miss dressing up with you, because we both loved it so much. I miss your family and our friends. I miss dancing and laughing and cuddling and inside jokes with you. I miss how you always knew what I was thinking, even if I didn’t’ say it.
You were my best friend. You knew me better than almost anyone else. You knew my weaknesses and my strengths. You knew how to handle my bad moods and bitchy comments. You knew how to make me laugh and bring out the goofiest side of me. You made me feel comfortable and beautiful. You knew my hopes, goals and dreams and always supported them. You had faith in me, you trusted me, you loved me.
So the real question is – do I miss you? Or the idea of you? Do I truly miss you, the person that you are, every single part of you? Or do I miss having a “someone,” a “person?” Someone who brings a sense of comfort? I find myself shutting out others and closing myself off from the possibility of finding someone else. I tried and failed a couple times, to start something new. But I think fear stands as a strong force in front of me. I know it’s only been a short period of time, but I’m scared that I’ll never find someone who loved me like you did. I’m scared I’ll never be comfortable with someone else like I was with you. I’m scared I won’t find someone who will love me for all that makes me who I am – flaws and all. I’m terrified of being alone and terrified that I made a huge mistake.
But the thing is, even if my apologies and your forgiveness added up to be enough – we could never start over. We could never try things again, continuing our old adventure. Believe it or not, I didn’t break up with you to hurt you, I only wanted the best for you and I still do. You didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t giving you their whole heart. Didn’t deserve someone who wasn’t giving 100% to the relationship. You deserved more and I couldn’t give it to you. Even through harsh words and mean comments, I know you only said them because you were hurt and confused. We could never try things again because I could never take the risk of what would happen. Would you string me along and break my heart because you still held resentment and wanted payback? Would I change my mind again and break things off? I could never hurt you like I did before. I could never take that chance. I could never again put you through that rollercoaster of emotions and feelings that our relationship started out to be. You’re too good of a person.
Maybe you are my “great white buffalo” or maybe you were just another relationship to teach me things, to open up my eyes to different lessons, experiences and people. While I may not know right now what my heart truly wants, I do know a few things. I know that you are a good person, with big dreams and goals that will be accomplished. I know that you have one of the biggest hearts of anyone I’ve ever known , that you’d do anything for your family and friends. We both have so much growing up to do, that couldn’t be more clear. Maybe one day our paths will cross again in a way that brings us close again. I truly believe that if we are meant to be together, we will be. But if not, I will always remember you in a positive light and will completely cherish all the memories we made together.
My heart will always hold a high place for you and a piece of me will always love you a little bit.