We met 12 years ago, after you came into my store. I didn’t know you but you sought me out. When we first met you were just another dude to me. If only I’d known back then how much you’d impact my life and how you’d etch yourself into my heart and soul.
We were young, just two kids fresh out of high school, two kids with troubled pasts and who were misunderstood. The more we spoke, the stronger our connection became and the more I felt like someone saw me for the first time in my life. Before I knew it, we were speaking all night and day.
We would lay under the night sky and talk for hours, I felt heard, I felt understood and I saw you for all the beauty and turmoil you were.
Your touch sent electric shocks through my body and your kiss was intoxicating. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. Our relationship was intense, passionate and insane.
But the honeymoon couldn’t last. We both carried demons from our childhood and bore scars from previous relationships. We hurt each other in ways no one has ever had the capacity to do.
You walked away from me, one cold, bleak day in May. I cried myself to sleep for months it seemed. Drowning my sorrows in parting and booze. I would call you drunk and beg you to take me back, professing my undying love.. but my pleas fell on deaf ears. My calls unanswered. My messages unread.
My heart, torn to pieces. My soul shattered. The one person who saw me gone. I thought of you and dreamt of you and my weary heart became depressed and lonely.
I tried to push you out of my mind. I tried to move on, but I struggled. I met a man, a kind man, a safe man. He became my friend and confidante. A friendship that grew to something more. Something I struggled to commit myself to because you were always at the back of my mind.
Eventually I started to forget you. The pain dulled day by day as I spent my days with the kind man. He made me laugh and he adored me. He adored me in a way that I’m not sure you ever did. But it wasn’t the same. What we had experienced was intoxicating.
Fast forward a few years.. my thoughts of you had faded and then, a friend request pops up. It’s you. My heart stops and those feelings flood back. I forget about my kind hearted, wonderful man and I’m back to you. You are my drug. I long to have you in my veins again.
We talk all day and night. Hiding our messages from our respective partners. You tell me I’m your day late friend, I tell you that you’re mine. You disappear again. Months pass. I delete your number. I force myself to stay off your Facebook page.. but then just when I’m almost over it, you’re back again. I’m addict. I need a fix.
I discard my kind hearted man for a fantasy. A fantasy that you and I will run off into the sunset together. Live by the ocean, basking in each other for the rest of our days. But alas. It was just that, a fantasy.
But truth be told, you didn’t love me. You didn’t want me. I don’t know what compelled you to keep talking to me. You tell me it’s because you regret letting me go.. but I’m just not so sure.
If you truly loved me and you truly cared, why didn’t you fight for me? Why did you let me go so easily?
I hate that I love you. I hate that you’re so ingrained into my heart. I hate that I can’t fully love anyone else because of what we shared. But mostly, I hate that my feelings were unreciprocated. That the torture I’ve put myself through for 12 years has been all one sided.
I sit here. 12 years on. An amazing husband who loves me in the other room. A man who truly would give his arm for me and I think about you. I hate that my heart skips a beat when I see you down the street. I hate that you overwhelm me when you message me and tell me you care about me. I don’t know how to let you go. I don’t know if I want to.
My husband is my home. My safe place. But sometimes I miss the turmoil and passion we shared.
I hope you’re happy. I hope one day you love someone the way I loved you. I hope you find someone who feels like home. I hope you find your chosen family. I only wish good things for you.
I will always love you.