If I close my eyes, I can still hear the strains of the piano you played for me that fall afternoon. And it would be a lie to say I fell in love with you that day because I loved you already. And sometimes your voice was velvet and I could lose myself in the sound, and sometimes it was as jagged as broken glass and I loved you all the more for it. From the beginning, I knew you would break my heart, but there are some things that are worth the pain and you were always one of them. You made me promises you couldn’t keep and I drank them in because I thought, this is what love is. It must be heartbreak, and lonely nights, and the way my mom could tell that I was talking to you on the phone by the tears streaming down my cheeks. No one else could make you cry like that, she told me, and I thought that was something to be admired, because you were quicksilver and ice and I still don’t understand how you could shine so bright for being so cold. Your moods would change with the seasons and with the tides, and I thought you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
It’s odd, that this many years have passed since you touched my hand like a question, and you asked me if we could be friends. You’d very much like that, you told me. And so our story has turned into one that is less of a fairy tale than a fable, and I wish I could tell others to learn from my mistakes but I still don’t think you were one. You burned away so much of me, and when there was nothing more to take you just…left. And I don’t hate you for it. Maybe I should, but you taught me that I could be more than who I was and people say trial by fire and I say please, I’ve done that already.
We never said goodbye. You were never one for labels, and you were never one to pretend. One day, you were gone, and I was left gasping for air before I realized that I didn’t need you to breathe anymore. And sometimes, we come back through each others’ lives like passing comets and finally, finally, I don’t burn my eyes looking at you because I have stared at the Sun and to do so a second time reminds me yes, I can do it, but no, I choose not to.
I choose not to, because I was young and naive and hopelessly in love with you, and if I close my eyes I can still hear those strains of piano music and I can still see your hands flying over the keys and a smile beginning to form on your lips, but those are memories from years ago.