An Open Letter To The One Who Chose To Stop Loving Me

Jurica Koletic

To say that my past relationships were a series of unfortunate events would be an understatement. Being a hopeless romantic with an oversized heart leaves you vulnerable for all the wrong kinds of love.

People always left, and people always chose someone else, until there was you.

When we met I had no idea what was in store for us. All I knew is that you were so different from every man I had ever encountered. I remember how you wore your glasses because I told you I liked them, and how your hands were shaking when I asked you to help tie my shirt (even though I pretended I didn’t) the night of our first date. I remember being so nervous wondering what we would have to talk about or if we would even get along. That’s the thing, it was so easy. Our conversation flowed so naturally and your laugh was so contagious I couldn’t help but laugh all night long.

I remember having every intention of shunning you away at the door and saying goodnight, but that never happened. I invited you into to my home that night and also into my heart and after that night we became intertwined and you grew to be my best friend.

Seeing as how this is an article about a break up its imperative that I explain just how good this relationship was in its entirety. Just how good you were. In a matter of weeks you slowly repaired years’ worth of damage. You effortlessly made me feel beautiful in my skin which I had struggled with for years. You made me feel like I truly deserved someone like you, someone and something so special I never found myself worthy of. You see that’s the thing about always being hurt; you truly convince yourself that IT IS you, not them.

You changed that, you changed me. I became the best version of myself in hopes to be the best person for you. I saw a future in those blue eyes I got lost in, but you didn’t.

Fast forward to eight days ago, eight days since you ended this. Ten days since I last saw you, but who’s counting.

I’m not mad that you left, I’m mad at how you left.

A simple phone call to so casually tell me that you were no longer in love with me.

The words shot out of your mouth about as fast as the tears fell from my eyes. No reason, no explanation other than the fact that you were happier alone. You made a point to reiterate that I was your first relationship, and that you were unsure if you even knew what love was. I think that was the hardest part. How could the person, my person I so easily fell love with and continued to fall more in with love each day didn’t even think he ever loved me at all.

I suppose I’ll never get my explanation or the closure I was so desperately seeking for. But then again, maybe how you left is closure enough. I tried to convince myself you must have loved me. That you don’t spend that much time, and laughs, and energy, and effort into someone you don’t love, but then I reminded myself of how you left. No warning, no signals, and no empathy for the breaking of my heart. You stopped communication and you created a new ache in my heart I didn’t know was possible.

I know you’re thinking I should be used to this with all my bad relationships, but I guess that’s the thing. Everyone else was an expected hurt, but you were different. You were the best man I knew, and treated me better than any man ever had, but you left me in the worst way I have ever been left. You said the three most hurtful words that pierce through your bones and then completely shut me out of your life.

You had a scent whenever you would come over after work, kinda sweaty and dirty with a hint of old spice you thought covered it up, it didn’t. I hated that smell, until I loved that smell and looked forward to it. Now I miss that smell,

I miss almost everything about you.

You weren’t a practice run or a test drive to me. I may have been your first relationship to experiment, but you were my everything. I fell in love with you as abruptly as you walked out of my life.

You didn’t choose someone else, you completely chose yourself. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Aspiring poet, writer, and creator.

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