1. So that eloping didn’t happen, after all. I went to Colorado. He was just like the rest of them. Just like you. I fell in love with Denver and into disappointment with men once again. You know I’m not one to open up or fall easily. I did both with him. I haven’t admitted as much to my friends, but he hurt me.
He wasn’t just some guy I texted when I was lonely. It’s like he had this agenda to enamor me. He put in effort and energy into getting close to me and pursuing me. He told me things. I’d never known a guy to open himself up so easily. I told him things too. One or two I had only ever shared with you. It’s one of my biggest regrets, he didn’t deserve to know them.
He told me how he felt about me and I believed him. He was the first guy to ever show an interest in my poetry. Maybe that’s what fooled me. He said he was drawn to my darkness, he told me it was beautiful. But I think he just likes playing games with sad girls. He painted to life such a vivid, intricate, and gorgeous picture of what a life together would be. But it must have been a strategy in his game to get whatever it is he wanted from me.I’m still not sure if it was just my body. He spent too much time and effort for just that. No. I’m convinced he’s even more fucked up than that. Maybe it was all about manipulation and power.
You know, there was someone else. All that time, he had someone. Did I mention he was like you? At least that’s not a truth you ever kept from me.
2. I still look for jobs there. I still think about moving there. I think about moving to other places, too, Seattle or Portland mainly. I went there. As broke as I was, I needed to get out of here. I booked an Airbnb, got on a plane, and went to Portland for three days. I didn’t tell anybody. I wanted to disappear. I lied about where I was. I barely answered any texts. I spent money I didn’t have. But, exploring the city I felt at ease, almost relief. Until I started to think about you and miss you, that is.
(That’s a lie, I never stopped, you’re always on my mind.)
3. You know, I hate bras. I just do. They’re so constricting and suffocating almost. I’ve always been self-conscious about my breasts. And I’ve always thought that because I had DDD’s I couldn’t get away with going without one. I would covet certain outfits that required you to go without. I finally decided to say fuck it. Free the boob. Free the nipple. I started wearing bodysuits, dresses, and tops that don’t require one, or are too revealing in certain places to be able to wear one. I feel more confident about my chest now. I never thought I would. I’ve actually gotten an unreal number of compliments on the perkiness and shape of my natural breasts. Sometimes when I go out sans bra I think about how proud you’d be about me becoming more comfortable with them. You always told me I had no reason to be ashamed.
4. While on the subject, I’m becoming more comfortable in my skin in general. I wear things I wouldn’t six, five, four, or even one year ago. Yes, I still have those bad days where I feel low about myself. And yes, I’m still going through those motions where I’m fluctuating in weight. But, there’s a huge part of me that has come to accept that i’ll never be stick thin. I’ve got curves, hips, and an ass I can’t get rid of no matter how much weight I lose, and I no longer hate this thing I can’t change about myself. Yeah, some days I struggle with my image. Some days I call myself fat, knowing well enough I’m not, some days I just wish I was skinnier. But they happen less and less. And when they do, I hear your voice telling me to shut up, that I’m beautiful, and I feel it and believe it.
5. I’ve become better and better at reading Tarot. I’ve tried doing readings for you. I don’t know how accurate they are without you there, without your energy, but when I wonder how you’re doing it brings me a comfort to do one for you.
6. L and I stopped speaking. Nothing really happened. Just what usually does with us. We just fizzle.
Usually, she finds a guy, like she does, and kind of focuses her energy on that. Kind of starts to care less about anything else. Anything else included me. There was this silly thing she did behind my back that I won’t share on the internet, but if she’d given me the chance, I would just have had a laugh. But there was also the fact that she said some hurtful things to someone about me. I could have maybe gotten over it, I felt like our friendship ran that deep. I even made an effort to reach out to her. But our friendship just vanished into thin air out of nothing.
I’m still uncertain why she decided to stop being my friend. It’s worse than breaking up with a guy. She really did hurt me. I think months later, out of pain I said something like, “she doesn’t exist to me” to a friend. But like it is with you, I think about her when there’s things I wish she was there for, when something happens I wish I could tell her. I don’t think we could ever go back to being friends again, but I still miss her. She’s now grouped with you under People Who Can’t Be In My Life But I’ll Always Love. (You’d find it hard to believe me, but C is too. I don’t think that’s something I can even go 60 seconds thinking about.)
7. I tried dating again. It was awful. I wanted to whine to you about how exhausting it was. How I’d almost just prefer to forgo it and spend a life alone.
8. The triple moon is now on my ribcage.
9. I wrote you this long letter on your birthday. I almost emailed it. But I didn’t. Instead, I wrote some lame ass poem and posted it on my poetry page.
I thought about you that whole day. I wished for nothing more than for her to be painting a smile on your face.
10. I unblocked your number the day of mine. I thought maybe I would hear from you that day. Anything. Even a “happy birthday,” if not an “I’m thinking about you.” I told myself if I heard from you I’d tell you I always think about you, and that I, too, will always love you, that I was sorry that I blocked your number.
I didn’t hear a thing. It crushed me. I went to the bathroom and cried a little. I cleaned my face. I didn’t mention it to my friends.
11. Christmas day I wanted to ask you if you remembered the last. I wanted to say, “I’d give anything to go back to that night.” I wanted to tell you that I still remember how I felt that night. How you made me feel that night.
12. I gave dating another shot. This first (and last) guy seriously came on too strong. Talking about a future on the second date. He was so clingy, too. Too into me (if there even is such a thing). It made me cringe. I mean, I love my space.
I decided to give him a second chance and had him meet me out while I was out with E, K, & T. Bad idea. The second he put his arm around me at the bar, I just knew it was a bad idea. I just wasn’t into him.My gut feeling was reaffirmed when he made a fool of himself. He couldn’t hang. He didn’t mesh well with my friends.
Later, he admitted to stalking my poetry page and demanded to know who this guy I mostly wrote about was (YOU!). AS IF HE HAD ANY RIGHT. Then he went on to ask if this piece about me preferring to be alone than with the wrong person was written because of him. I’ve known you for about 5 minutes, if there’s anything you inspire in me it’s the need to run in the opposite direction. He’s still texting me. I’m still ignoring him. He “gave up,” but now he just feels it imperative that he get this t-shirt of his I have back, because of its “sentimental” value. PLEASE!
13. I am now blonde. I don’t know if you’d laugh or be turned on. But yeah, believe it or not, I am full on blonde. I think I may even go a bit lighter in a few weeks.
14. I’ve sworn countless times to stop writing about you. To stop letting any part of you bleed into the words I write. But I can’t. And here I am.