I guess we were never really in love, were we?
He and I. Me and him. Us together. No matter how you said it we were two people intertwining our lives. Two people whose futures were seemingly vested in one another.
But we weren’t two people building a life together. We weren’t even two people who made each other happy. We were just two people searching for something and ignoring all the signs that we wouldn’t find it in one another.
I never felt like we were actually a “we.” It always felt like he was separate from me. Technically we were seeing each other but we were as disconnected as two lovers can get. He was always sort of a stranger to me and looking back he never really knew me either. I’m not even sure he wanted to.
We were such a good idea, but just because something looks pretty from the outside doesn’t mean it isn’t really a gnarled mess. If anyone had bothered to look a little closer they would’ve seen us as we really were. Two people playing pretend with one another’s heart and life.
I wanted to curl up in the security and assurance he brought me but then I realized something that shattered the illusion once and for all. Life isn’t about safety. Not a life worth living anyway. A beautiful life is all about risks and passion and deep, uncontrollable love. I didn’t feel any of those things when I looked at him and I know he felt the same way.
If we had been honest from the beginning things wouldn’t have gone as far as they did. Practicality and society told us we were on the path to marriage but our souls had been screaming for us to run from day one. You can’t begin a life together based on the premise of a life you’ve lived apart. Apart from one another we seemed meant to be, but together we were meant to be apart.
So I guess we were never really in love.
He and I are no longer a “we” and it’s better this way. I still wonder how I could spend so much time with a stranger but I wouldn’t trade our small piece of life. I gained nothing but a few good memories and some laughs and that’s enough for me.