To The Love Story That Was

Backlit couple in black and white photograph sharing an intimate moment at night on the water
Everton Vila / Unsplash

It took me a year to ask this: “Where did we go wrong?”

It was 11:00 in the evening, I have my sweater on dealing with a tumultuous amount of work; I haven’t eaten or drank anything. As my phone beeps to a notification, I saw your face buried the outer frames of the screen. Your smile was brimming. Your whole demeanor seemed so light and carefree despite the chaos on the forefront. There was a lightness in you that illuminated my dreary evening.

That was my first memory of you.

This Is What Happy Looks Like; I have Jennifer Smith to be thankful for! Through her work, our fingers first touched. It took a mighty transference from one friend to another, but I got the book — we have reached each other. You made me smile that night. It took us fourteen days to realize we were ready. We moved forward past the imminent danger of being together abruptly. We waned the warnings as nothing but noise. Because it wasn’t a question to be for us to be together. It felt right.

1. That Was What Happy Looked Like

Happy. Whenever people ask me what happens means for me, I always say: “Being loved back. There really is nothing close to it.” Yes, granted that most things will fade into oblivion, but the memory sticks better than glue on paper. And, after everything has been said and done, you still have that memory to accompany you through the remainder of your days.

I have experienced happiness to be in the littlest of things with you. It is the tiny specks of moments that linger, blaring out the gaping the void that rules our daily lives. Hearing you chuckle on the silliest of punchlines, watching you cringe on suspense stunts, seeing you smile in between cheeky movies, you hogging the blanket, curling up on your side of the bed — these were moments for me.

That was when I was the happiest.

2. Bad Things Happen to Good People

We thought we were infinite.

We were good. We were happy. But alas! As with everything, life catches up. The universe always has a way of taking things back, maintaining the tall order of living in the balance of sorrow and joy.

Nothing bad sits still and nothing good ever lingers. And, in the haze of all the joy and comfort, we stopped figuring each other out. We never knew what the problem was — maybe there was none, maybe its everything. Maybe we thought time was on our side. That, maybe, time will solve our unpronounced dilemmas. Ultimately, we hanged our love in the noose of our own assumptions.

3. Dreaming for One

You were my first; I wanted you to be my last.

I moved out on Valentine’s Day — that alone was a sign. I have decided to go against the odds. Because, I was so sure this was it. You were my family. I have painted a picture of us in my mind — you, me and our dog, together. A picture perfect family of three. I almost got a ring saved for your 30th birthday. Us in tuxedo exchanging vows in front of our friends and family, that was the dream. Maybe I was only dreaming for one.

After a year, I have grown tired of asking questions. I no longer wish to crucify you for the choices that made you happy. That is not what love is. Right now, I am at a loss of what that [love] means now. Maybe, just maybe, love is not yet to be figured out, but experienced.

To be honest, I can never completely detach from your hold on me. You will always be a piece that remains unsolved. And, I am okay with that. Because, I can always plainly choose to leave the tile on the floor, pack my bags and leave the world we created for each other.

Some say that writing is a means to an end for repressed hearts. That, every click on the keyboard brings the writer closer to solving his proclaimed enigma. That, every word churned out of hurt will pave the way to a realized ending. Well sometimes, in an effort to heal, we need to open our doors to unresolved truths — hoping that every question will eventually answer themselves and leave you with everything to go on.

Love stories don’t come with a period; love stories pause with a comma. Our hearts will forever be open for the next sentence waiting to be written; introducing a new hero and a different pause — with the ending we deserve. Thought Catalog Logo Mark


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