It has been three years since I last laid eyes on him. A bitter, deeply gut-wrenching goodbye it was. After a few years of alternating infatuation, lust, obsession, and impassioned complexity, my complicated love story with this man left me stranded in a desolate island called despair. We hit rock bottom and decided to part ways. At the time, I forced myself to believe that it was for the best, but that didn’t mean I could pretend I wasn’t shattered into a million pieces.
My love for him is always going to be a tattoo on my heart, one that doctors will be able to see when and if they ever examine my deceased body, one organ at a time.
The whole relationship wasn’t destined to succeed and we both knew it. Yet that harsh reality doesn’t take away from the fact that he still knocks on the door of my heart and tip toes in.
Every so often, he shows up to remind me of his existence, especially at the times in which I believe I have finally let go of him.
I remember how he used to make my heart race and my hands shake with unceasing anticipation. Butterflies took over my whole essence and he rocked my world. I am not sure if he used some form of hypnosis on me to cause these strong reactions, as they always kept me wanting more. I guess I will never know.
Nothing satiated my soul, as I didn’t even think one lifetime was enough time for me to express all of the love I had inside of me. How can a girl forget something like that? Every ounce of my being was wholeheartedly in love with him and I had convinced myself that we would be forever. Being the dreamer that I am, I envisioned a lifetime together and ignored any signs that pointed in the opposite direction. How could something so powerful and electrifying lead to nothingness?
If you told me that we would cease to exist someday and that I would become a distant, forgotten memory, a sea of tears would drown me. As a matter of fact, I don’t even think I would survive. The thought of that would destroy me from the inside out and make my life colorless. Fortunately, I have survived the aftermath of our dissolution and the tears only occasionally pay a visit.
Even though I have moved on and met someone amazing, a part of me always wonders about the one that got away. I know he is married now and living happily ever after with a girl that isn’t me. I am supposed to be happy for him, but I can’t help but picture myself in her place. Despite years of rebuilding myself and learning to love myself unconditionally, a part of me is still dying to know what I was missing and why he couldn’t love me back. Things ended before they truly began, so I can’t help but wonder just how much we could have experienced, loved, and grown together. The potential we had at one time seemed as vast as the galaxies, but it has now been reduced to dust.
Whether or not the whole relationship was one-sided or even just a personal fantasy with no basis in truth, that doesn’t take away from the fact that he took up my heart once upon a time. Does he ever think about me too? I admittedly wish he did. A few nights ago, amidst deep slumber, I awoke to his embrace. He was right there beside me, gazing into my somber eyes on our final evening together. My eyes welled up in tears, my heart pounded out of my chest, and chills ran up and down my spine. Like I was right back to our farewell, roughly three years ago. The feelings were all too familiar, yet they were taking place in the present day. I know it was merely a dream, but it shook me to the core and left me breathless. It reminded me of what we had at one point and took me back in time to one of the most crushing days of my life. Although the chances of us ever rekindling are next to impossible as we have both moved onward and outgrown one another, I still wonder what could have been.