All I need you to know is that I love you. I always will. It’s not a Coldplay song, it’s not a Pinterest quote. It’s a statement. I wish we met in a different way, or when we were older, or after we each had our share of failed relationships, and we would make it work. I wish I never had to leave you when the world was put on hold. That was, and is, the most heartbreaking thing I ever had to do. I keep wishing to wake up next to you, raising one (but let’s be honest, I would have been able to convince you to have two) kids together and Cupcake (the pug).
But now we know that won’t happen in this lifetime. And maybe in the next one, we won’t raise a pug.
(They’re really ugly.)
Soulmates do not always come to stay, but I hoped you would.
Relationships have an expiration date. Relationships are learning ground.
Especially when those involved do not want the same things.
When they are unsure as to what it is that they do want.
Or when they are convinced that the only thing that they do want is not the other person
Thank you. I trusted you with a lot of things, and for the most part, you showed up. You became a good boyfriend even in the worst of conditions. We made it work way longer than we expected. You made me happy, even if it was for a limited time.
I have the “very important documents” in my laptop case. I have all the notes you gave me. I have your sweaters, the rose, the photos. But there is more to it. I have the memories; I have the feelings. The ache in my heart from when we stared at each other across hallways, our egos not letting either of us make the first step. The burst of butterflies I felt when you kissed me. The knot in my stomach when you said it was over. The promise of “the ring, baby.” The constant pressure in my chest at the thought that I will walk out of the house one day and run into you, and I won’t be able to hug you. The fact that we already picked what languages our kids will speak.
I love you, but you have a lot to grow.
I understand you not wanting to get married. Or to have kids.
Or at least, not with me.
I am angry and annoyed and exhausted. But above all, I miss you. I miss being the source of your happiness. I miss hearing your laugh. I miss being a “turtle” and hugging you when I am sad. I miss seeing you at break times and pissing our teachers off: “THIS IS A SCHOOL, YOU TWO.” I miss feeling your hand under my shirt while you talk to your friends, which lets me know that I am constantly on your mind.
I guess I miss feeling important to you. I miss seeing you go out of your way for me to feel loved, and safe, and listened to.
You need to figure yourself out. You cannot go around destroying every heart you get close to because you’re “bored.” Because you’re not willing to try. It’s nobody’s responsibility except yours to put the work in. Because nobody is interesting 24/7. Nobody’s life purpose is to entertain you nonstop just so they’re sure you’ll stick around.
You need to understand the strength you have within you. This façade you’re putting on of the funny/likeable/cool guy shows nothing about who you are. If you do not want people to know the real you, don’t create relationships with them. You can’t keep offering people crumbs of who you are and expect them to hold onto these illusions of a person.
I accept that I might be wrong, that you are open and willing to talk to people. But tell me, why has February 29th upset you for so long?
Why are boys who cry “not men enough”?
Why, all of a sudden, have you stopped wanting kids?
Why, all of a sudden, after knowing what life feels like when we are not going through it together, have you stopped wanting me?
“We will make it. I will love you even if we won’t see each other until the end of the year,” you said exactly one year ago.
So, do you?