Ever since we broke up the weekend before last, my mind and heart haven’t been in the right place. I still turned up for work, I still tried to get my stuff together. We said we’d try to be friends, and I guess that worked out until Friday, when you kindly let me know that I was starting to irritate you. I know you wanted to just drop off my stuff, which I actually didn’t really care about. I just wanted to see you.
It didn’t matter that I had to buy my own drinks when we were out, that talking to other guys was a problem to you but you were okay with you texting other girls when you were with me. Just as it didn’t matter that your friends treated me like a piece of ass, but you didn’t say anything. Just as it didn’t matter that when I needed you to be around for me, you only showed up when it was convenient for you, but I would push my own work aside to show up at 3 or 4 in the morning just because you wanted me there, or that I would have to pay the cab fare myself, despite living on a student’s stipend compared to your full-time job.
It didn’t matter that when I passed my major exam, you couldn’t even make time to see me that weekend – oh yeah, the same weekend we broke up. Even if you turned up for an hour, I would have been fine with that. You live 5-10 minutes away, but that would have been too much to ask. It didn’t matter that when you were worried about going off to a combat zone, you couldn’t talk to me about how worried you were, or that you didn’t know if you were coming back, but you could talk to your best friend about it. I know you’ve known your best friend for years, but I loved you too. We were planning to get married and have kids; wouldn’t it have mattered if something horrible did happen and I didn’t know about it? Guess not.
I miss how things were often lighthearted, and how we had our own silly jokes about achievements being unlocked, and double kills. I miss how you laughed at those bad jokes I made. I miss how in the beginning, you would turn up some occasions when I was stressed out of my mind. I miss our 2am 3am breakfasts/suppers, or the sex until dawn broke. I miss how your lips felt, and the aftertaste of your cigarette. I miss our hugs, and I miss how you felt, and how you made me feel when you had your arms wrapped around me. I miss you kissing me on the forehead. I miss your feeding me Sour Patch Kids at the movies, I miss the drunk-dialing. I miss how I would miss you all week, and when I finally got to see you, the sight of you was a balm. I miss how protective and gentle you could be when you wanted me. I miss your jealousy when I did have a conversation with other guys. I miss how you didn’t mind having traces of my lipgloss on your cheek, if that meant I adored you to pieces because I did. I miss how our hands fit, and how cute we looked as a couple in the mirror. I miss you. I missed you.
Maybe I was being defiant about racial stereotypes when I dated you – an Asian girl with a Black guy? Sure. But I loved you, and I fell in love. I found in you everything I wanted, and everything else I didn’t deserve. The passion, the conscientiousness, the love, the intimacy, the humor, the innocence… and the fluctuating times that I would or would not get it, depending on how you felt.
I know you said I ruined it. I did, and I take full responsibility for that. But if you couldn’t deal with what I did, you should have walked away in the beginning rather than drag this out. I know I’ve told you this a million times since we’ve broken up, but I really did truly love you, more than anything or anyone else in the world.
I hope you stay safe where you’re going, please try to come back safe and unharmed.
I love you,