You were intoxicating, you were mysterious – and I made the grave mistake of falling. It felt electric where your skin met mine, when our gazes locked. There was this deep-rooted connection – it felt like we gravitated toward each other, much like two people dancing this endless tango. But to this day, I do not know – it might have been all in my head. It might have meant something more or it might have just been me. Maybe all you needed was someone to get by while you weren’t with her and I was too naïve to interpret your kisses, your banter, your touch as real. The messages you sent got lost in translation – but I was the only one left confused. I turned my back on better things, only to see you turning your back on me.
Now here I was in square one – painfully sober and heartbroken. It’s 11:28 in the evening, and just like every other evening I am writing about you. I hoped, over and over again, that if I write about you then I would get the feelings out of my system and I’d be okay. After all, I was just an afterthought, someone to fill the spaces in between where she cannot fill them – you should have been the same to me. But as I wrote endlessly about you, I realized it wasn’t that easy. You just don’t fall in and out of love like some switch turned on and off.
You left me angry and hurt. You left me feeling like I was used and vulnerable. And you left me feeling like I was the only one to blame. Maybe I was. You didn’t ask me to love you – it was my decision, an error on my part. I never thought loving would feel so wrong, but here I was anyway.
I am in love with you. And I have to forgive myself for that. I have to stop being angry with myself for being human. It was a mistake that was both terrifying and beautiful, but a mistake nonetheless – something to learn from, something not to repeat.
So I hope the next time I see you, I could meet your gaze without feeling so heavy with the thought that your eyes are the most beautiful ones I’ve ever seen. I hope that when I hear you laugh, it won’t sound like music to my ears anymore. I hope that when you are deep in your thoughts, I won’t feel like you are this intricacy I am dying to understand. I hope that the next time I see you, it won’t feel like you are mine – because you were someone I never had.