Let’s not say that love left us. Instead, let’s say we decided to let go of love.
That way, when we look back at our story we’d know that we were sure. And that the heartbreak that followed was something we were both ready for. That we wanted to grow apart. And that we wanted to find a better version of love.
Let’s try to seem mature. As if our love was tamed. As if it never overflew to the point that we couldn’t handle it. This way, when we look back, we’d remember a love that didn’t kill us. We’d remember the smell of flowers and not the cigarettes. We’d remember the fireworks and not the blank empty smoke that came after. We’d remember the sound of laughter and not the quiet sound of leaving.
We’d remember missing each other and we’d remember saying goodbye that meant, “I hope the best for you.”
Let’s try to forget that we ever fought about anything other than who loved each other most.
Because dear, remembering you as the man who broke my heart breaks me more each time I have to see you- with her, with happiness, with something beautiful that isn’t me.
So I’d like to remember you as the lover who made sad days bearable. I’d like to remember you as the one who stayed- on days when it was the hardest to love myself. You never failed to tell me I am beautiful. I’d like to remember you as a proof that it’s not impossible to love and be loved. That it isn’t impossible to change dark days to better ones. I’d like to remember you..
I’d like to remember you as a writer who scribbled stories from the dead language of the love I failed to see. And that’s all I want to remember.
This is how I want to remember love.