Dear Old Friend,
I’ve been putting off writing to you for a while. I’ve written little excerpts here and there, each of them bringing me closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. I’ve been putting off writing to you, or about this in general, because writing it will make it too real. It will set it in stone and it will mark it. In that, I will have to let it go. So, if for some reason you ever find this, know you were never anything short of gorgeous and this is nothing short of genuine.
I didn’t want to write this because I still held hope that you would reach out or that I would reach out, but it’s not what you want. I respect that. I’m tugging at cut strings, trying to grasp you and bring you back to me, to tell you that I was in love with you in the purest of forms. I know this won’t bring you back and you won’t ever see it, but I hope that by putting it in writing you will know what I felt was sincere.
Over the last couple of years, I have relied on my belief that everything you go through, you grow through. I can’t quite see it now, but I hope this gives me a chance to grow to be a better person for myself, for those who I love and if time is in our favor, for you.
I don’t know how else to jump into it but to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry we put each other through this pain. I know your decision wasn’t easy. I’m not blinded by hurt anymore, I can see it clearly now.
To be blunt with you, I think you were my twin flame. That’s not to say you were my soulmate, because I don’t believe in those, but I do believe in twin flames and the many forms they come in. You were able to fit into one.
I think what hurts the most are the plans we made, arranging our lives to fit each other in. We talked about the future and I thought you’d be in it. It hurt so much when we let that go. The promises and the plans we made roll off your breath and now hang in the air that envelops me, so I breathe them in and hope the water will wash them down my throat.
You said you almost cried. For the couple of days following what I can only describe as the end of all things, my tears never seemed to stop. For a while after, I would ask the silence if you ever cared, knowing deep inside that I have never been as sure of the love someone has for me as I did with you. Since I’m letting it all out, I love you. I think love might make us eternal. Some loves end, but in writing, I fossilize us. As one of the greatest poets of our generation, Taylor Swift, once said, “If our love died young, I can’t bear witness.”
Though we were temporary, you felt like home. There were times when I knew I should have let you go, past pain coming back to tell me to recognize the patterns. I think that’s what Taylor Swift meant when she talked about “the snaps from the same little breaks.” Where have I felt this pain before? I knew where I had felt that pain before, I just wasn’t willing to leave. I didn’t want to walk out on you and I’ve never been the one to get away. I need to know when to put things down, I need to understand when it’s time to go and say goodbye, but I was never taught what to do when a good man hurts you. In the process of your escape, you’ve become a lingering feeling, a tainted recollection.
I’ve given what we had a lot of thought, and at first, I would have described it as a precarious love. But in hindsight, it was delicate, and when it fell, it shattered. However, if there’s one reason to be put on this Earth, I think it’s to love, so thank you for helping me find that.
Before I leave, do you remember that late-night conversation we had, one of the many? We discussed the multi-verse, and you said that there has to be something out there, just not the way we imagine it. I hope there are other versions of us out there in the vast nothingness so I can find you in every lifetime, love you in each and hold you at least in one.
Yours truly,
-D.O.
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